


Wonderful World (Bi Bi Baby)

by Jamz24



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Bi-Curiosity, Bi-Erasure, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Don't look for a moral 'cos there isn't one, Evak - Freeform, Evak Smut, F/F, F/M, Fem BDSM, Gay Male Character, Light BDSM, M/M, Married Evak, Pansexual Character, Skam Drabble, Some biphobic language but it's all about people learning, seriously blink and you'll miss it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2018-12-24 10:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12010584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamz24/pseuds/Jamz24
Summary: Feat. SKAM's bi/ pan-babes and bi-curious babes alike, aka the storylines that Julie forgot. Here Julie, I fixed them for you!





	1. Don't Know Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [staylucky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/staylucky/gifts).



> Inspired by something the lovely ughasifxclueless posted on Twitter about bi-babes P-Chris and Eva. 
> 
> It got me thinking about the other bi-curious and potential pan storylines that SKAM floated but never followed up. Any problems with the Magnus storyline, fight me!!!
> 
> Song from a favourite of my mum's, Sam Cooke's Wonderful World.

_Don't know much about history_

_Don't know much biology_

_Don't know much about a science book,_

_Don't know much about the french I took_

_But I do know that I love you,_

_And I know that if you love me, too,_

_What a wonderful world this would be_

_(Sam Cooke. What a Wonderful World ,1960)_

 

**Mandag, 19.30**

To misquote the words of the old 60's song, Chris doesn’t know much about history, biology, the inside of a science book, or much at all about the French he took; but he does know that he likes it when the guys get their kit off in the showers at the Plaza gym.

He likes it when they look over, clock him watching them, and beckon him over with their eyes. He knows he likes it when they make room for him and check him out as he tips back his head and washes out his hair.

There’s always someone to play with here.

He likes it when he’s soaping a guy’s cock, feeling it swell and harden under his touch, and rubbing it all over his own muscled stomach until the guy is a groaning mess in his hands. He likes pumping a guy off using just his fingers, holding him squeezed tightly between thumb and forefinger to hold him off for as long as possible before the guy comes over his chest or on his cheek, depending on whether he’s hot enough for Chris to get on his knees for.

Personally he likes rubbing himself against a guy’s bare ass, thrusting slickly along the groove of his cheeks and up his back; he won’t fuck because condoms are a nightmare in showers, and he likes the thrill of _almost_ barebacking, the skin-to-skin sensation of thrusting against a guy, feeling him squirm with the pressure, holding his hips still to quicken the feeling right up until he’s losing it, shooting over the guy’s back and banging out the last drops against his buttocks.

He likes it when he’s squeezing a cock in each hand, while he kisses another guy in front of him, he likes being groped and pulled at, men licking warmly over his neck and mouth, he likes kissing in a group with two, three tongues in his mouth, hands grazing over his ass and his stomach, feeling his own cock butt and knock at the thighs pressed against his.

When he really wants to party he likes to kneel under the shower spray so that the guys can take turns rubbing their dicks between his pretty, full lips; he loves the way a cock can slide in and out of his mouth so easily in water, nuzzling greedily over his face and closed eyes. He won’t swallow, so he’ll generally spit if a guy gets over-excited while he’s in his mouth, but to be honest he likes the feeling best when a guy comes on his face, drizzling over his forehead and down his cheek, warm and sticky and easily washed away.

He doesn’t do well with emotion, he’s not in to hand-holding or going on dates or making playlists for someone, any of that shit, hell he’d probably never date a guy in _real life_. He does it with girls sometimes but he hates all the boring meeting parents and having to go to stuff because she wants you to, and the _do you love me_ phone calls and the constant hassle of it all. But he _does_ like those short, hard conquests that he gets at the gym, he likes it hard and dirty and preferably from behind, pressed up against the shower wall sucking on a guy’s fingers as the guy ruts his cock against Chris’s ass or fucks his thighs in a mess of soap and bubbles.

There _are_ guys in real life that he likes, there’s Isak, for instance, and a couple of people in the Penetrator squad, but it would be _awkward_ , it’s not like it is here, free and easy and no questions asked. The freedom to bring off a guy using your mouth and fingers without worrying about the morning after. You don’t have to worry about anybody seeing _you_ , anybody knowing the mess you’re making of your life, all the things you’re failing at, all the worries and doubts that you’re keeping so firmly pressed inside. And you don’t need to think about them either, for the short time you’re with them, you’re so concentrated on getting all that admiration reflected back on you.

All you need to show them is your game, and Chris has plenty of that.

 _Too much thinking_ , Chris tells himself firmly, and steps into the arms of the tallest guy, giving him one of _those_ looks.

 

**Tirsdag, 3.45pm**

Eva doesn’t know much, but she knows she loves it when she’s got Noora down in bed with her, Noora’s soft thighs pressing each side of her face, as Eva gives her head with one wet finger pressed deep in her ass. She knows she loves it when Noora bucks up into her mouth, pressing herself against Eva’s lips so that she’s riding her tongue with jerky, greedy movements, her short sharp gasps telling Eva that she’s close. She knows she loves it when Noora’s hands are scrabbling through her hair, holding her head in position, guiding her to the right angle of her hotspot by pulling and pushing; not there, _there_! yes _here_ , more, more _, keep going_ …

Eva loves it when she’s lying on top of Noora afterwards, lips still smeared with her taste and smell, looking down at Noora’s fucked-out, flushed face and lazy, bewildered smile. Noora’s lipstick has rubbed off all over Eva’s mouth and fingers and her hair’s standing on end like a haystack. _I wonder if she looks like this just after William fucks her_ , thinks Eva. _I wonder if her breath catches like she’s choking when she’s about to come. I wonder if he sees her skin turn bright pink when she’s on the edge, or how her stomach swells and she thrashes around when she’s coming apart._

“What are you thinking about?” murmurs Noora softly, winding a sprig of Eva’s hair around her fingers. Eva’s had it cut short, not as short as a boy’s, but not far off, and Noora can’t stop touching it.

“Nothing,” says Eva, but Noora grins, her wide, teasing smile, tugging at Eva’s hair until she forces her to look up. “I know it’s not nothing. Is it about William?”

“No, no, no!” protests Eva, but Noora is no fool, she knows every expression on her girlfriend’s face, recognises every little seismic change of emotion that she sees there. “We’re over, Eva. I told you. He’s a dick, and he’s gone back to London.”

“You just seemed so happy when he _was_ here,” begins Eva gruffly, staring at the duvet, but Noora grabs her and holds her, hands cupped each side of her face, beautiful lake-blue eyes staring into hers in a way that always makes Eva’s stomach flip.

“Yeah, I was happy, but that was because I didn’t _know_ him, Eva. I thought I knew him, but I didn’t. But I know you, babe. I know everything about you. And that’s what makes this so _good_.”

And it _is_ good, Eva knows this, it’s good when Noora’s standing pressed against her in the shower later, long fingers gently exploring between Eva’s legs. Noora’s good at this, she used to play piano and now she plays Eva like her own song, fingertips softly circling around every inch of her, stroking between her legs, sliding up and down in the groove from her ass to her clit, working out her sweet-spot until Eva moans and cries. Eva isn’t very good at coming standing up, so Noora’s got one arm around her and Eva’s got one leg up jammed against the wall of the shower, and Noora’s kissing up and down Eva’s neck, lips softly skating over the water coursing down their bodies, and from time to time sucking a bruise into her neck. Eva can feel Noora’s sharp teeth nipping at her skin, relieved by the way she swirls her tongue over the bitten area to cool it. Eva’s got one arm thrown around Noora’s neck, and Noora’s blonde hair is a sodden mass in Eva’s hand, and as she pulls at it she can hear Noora gasp in that way she likes so much.

She loves the way that Noora fucks her, slender fingers rhythmically sliding between her legs, alternating between soft sweeps over her hardened clit, and deep plunges inside her. Noora’s whispering in her ear too, whether it’s filthy stuff or loving stuff, Eva can’t make out much of it over the drumming of the shower but she knows it’s for her, all for her. And it’s the feeling of having Noora on her, inside her, owning her and working her that tips her over the edge, and she’s shaking as she comes, but all of a sudden her leg gives out, and they’re slipping down in a heap on the bottom of the shower, laughing hysterically.

Eskild bangs on the bathroom door and peeks through, wiping the steam off the shower door. He screams.

“OH MY GOD THERE ARE LESBIANS IN THE SHOWER!”

“Fuck off, Eskild!” shout Noora and Eva in unison.

 

**Onsdag, 8.20**

It’s early morning and Chris is awake with a boner the size of a baby’s arm. He’s lying there, hand sliding lazily up and down his sizeable cock, fingers tugging around the head, one hand behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

There’s no one here to share it with, it’s too early to go cruising, and Tinder or Grindr aren’t even active yet. He delves into his personal wank-bank of mental images stored over the past year; flicking through his mental charts of guys and girls that stand out for him; Iben, Ingrid, Isak, Julian, Sara …

But he’d be up for a little sexting, why the fuck not.

He pulls out his phone, takes a close-up of his cock, and fires it off.

 

**Onsdag, 8.30**

Eva doesn’t remember a time that she hasn’t been in love with Noora now, and she remembers even less when she’s on her back in the bathtub, with Noora sitting on top of her, thighs wound around hers, they’re in the perfect position where Noora’s rutting herself up and down Eva’s thigh, rubbing herself against the delicate bone of her hip. Noora’s back is arched, one hand on either side of Eva on the edge of the bath, soap suds coursing down her titties; Eva’s massaging her thumb into Noora’s soft stomach feeling her muscles brace against it, it helps Noora come easier. Eva’s watching Noora’s eyelids droop as she pants against her hard and fast; Eva’s not going to come in this position but she doesn’t care, she’s storing up images of Noora like fuel against a winter’s day.

And titties; how did Eva never realise before how amazing they are, especially Noora’s. Noora’s are perfect handfuls, jutting out from her body with shy pink nipples that Eva loves to tease into hard peaks. She licks up under the curve of Noora’s breast and traces her tongue over the aureole, hearing Noora’s blunt intake of breath as she does so. Eva grins to herself, feeling her nipple harden on her tongue as she begins to suck, at first gently then harder, tongue swirling around the cone of the nipple, alternating with humming around the curve of her breast that makes Noora laugh and shiver. “You’re tickling me!”

Eva’s so far gone that she doesn’t hear the ping of a text on her phone, and she only realises something’s wrong when Noora slows down and abruptly climbs off her. She blinks her eyes open, confused.  Noora’s sitting up on the side of the bath, looking at _her_ phone, surprised.

“Why is P-Chris sending you dick-pics?” Noora asks coldly.

Eva gapes and grabs for the phone but Noora holds it away, her eyes changing from hot to icy. Eva stammers. “It’s not anything … he sends me stupid shit from time to time. Last year when I broke up with Jonas, he wanted nudes, but I didn’t send any, so he started sending me dick pics.”

She feels irritated more than alarmed; he hasn’t sent any pictures for months, why now? For a while she enjoyed getting new photos of his dick, but after she didn’t respond Chris kind of tailed off. When she broke up with Jonas it made her feel wanted and she enjoyed getting herself off over them for a bit, Chris has got a pretty good-looking cock, a highkey Instagrammable dick in fact, but let’s be real here, girls aren’t generally _all_ about the visuals, there’s gotta be a bit more to it, so when Eva got together with Noora she ended up ghosting Chris, and now for some reason, here he is again, firing back a picture of his morning wood in its full glory.

To be fair, she hadn’t actually _told_ Chris she was seeing Noora, or seeing anybody for that matter. She hasn’t actually told many people outside of her circle, because it’s all too new, too real for her; her mum isn’t going to understand, or think that she’s going through a phase, or she’s influenced by a popular TV show and playing at being a fashionable bisexual. Or think that she’s taking a leaf out of Isak’s book; he’s the first one to come out in their year, and at some level, she’s worried that people will think that all this, all this stuff with Noora, isn’t _true_.

“Block him,” says Noora, but Eva already has.

 

**Fredag, 23.30**

Eva doesn’t care anymore when they’re at the party; she’s sitting on Noora’s knee kissing the curve of her neck and licking around her ear, feeling Noora squirm and giggle as she probes her tongue as deep as possible.

“Looks like you two are getting on quite well,” says Chris, strolling up to them, holding a beer, killer look at the ready.

Noora flicks Eva a glance that says, _Deal with this, or I will._

“We’re together now,” says Eva, winding her arm possessively around Noora’s shoulders. “Have been for a while.”

Chris’s face lights up; he grins his stupid, idiotic, sexy grin, and tilts his head back, watching Eva from underneath hooded but sharply-interested eyes. “Yeah? Can I watch?”

Eva shoots him dead-eye glares. “Of course you can’t, what do you think we are, a porn channel?”

Chris shrugs. “I’ve seen girls doing it. I’m all for it. Female liberation and all that.”

Noora’s had enough; she won’t let boys get away with their shit in front of her. “Talk about objectification all you like. I’ve heard your reputation in the gym shower,” she snarks at him.

Chris looks momentarily alarmed. “What have you heard?”

“Oh, that you’re the boy’s byke in the Plaza Gym showers,” says Noora airily. “Or so Eskild says.”

Chris’s eyes widen. _Who the fuck is Eskild_? But Noora’s looking at him, eyes narrowed, and Chris can sense that it’s useless to deny it, she _knows_. Jesus, which one was Eskild again? He searches his memory for regulars. He never asks names, that’s one step too many along the path to intimacy. The small twink? The tall dark-haired guy? Who knows.

Noora’s squinting at him, enjoying his surprise. “So you like boys now?”

“I like girls too,” said Chris, too surprised to say anything but the truth.

“Ah, confused about your sexuality then,” starts Noora, but Chris hates this stupid expression more than anything, and folds his arms. “I’m not _confused_ ,” he says, pissed. “Why, are you?”

“I’m not confused,” says Noora. “I’ve liked Eva since the moment I saw her.”

Eva is watching all this in amazement. “Chris, do you like boys or girls?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Why should I have to choose?” asks Chris defensively. “I like sex with guys, I just don’t want to go out with one, that’s all.”

“You don’t want to go out with girls either,” snaps Noora angrily. “You just want to fuck them, or _send them dick pics when they’re with their new fucking girlfriend_.”

“Mmm, well you may have a point,” says Chris. “So I take it a threesome is entirely out of the question?”

And _okay_ he’s winding them up now, and he really isn’t _that_ surprised when Noora’s drink sails out of her glass and all over his face.

 

**Lørdag, 0.03**

Left alone outside, cleaning himself up with his T-shirt, Chris broods over a beer.

He loves sex but he really doesn’t want to date; but everyone around him is dating, or would _want_ to date if he had sex with them. Which is just not Chris’s thing. As soon as someone wants to get serious, he’s off. Is it something wrong with him? Or has he somehow evolved past the need to date and gone straight to the self-realisation of instant orgasm?

He can see Isak, leaning on the balcony wall in his favourite white hoodie. He’s talking to someone around the corner, and shamelessly flirting, his hand’s playing with the drawstring in his hoodie, pulling it up and down, and he’s laughing a little too brightly, showing his pretty teeth and leaning on the wall provocatively.

Chris draws closer, entranced. Isak’s putting out, he can see; although from here he can’t see who he’s chatting to, but he’s pretty sure that whoever it is isn’t a match for him on full charm offensive. He’ll just swing over there and charm Isak away, and into bed no problem.

He likes the way Isak looks, he’s tugged himself off plenty over sights of Isak in football kit or tight jeans, and if he _had_ to date anyone with a gun held to his head, then it would probably be him. And he knows Isak likes him, he’s seen Isak looking at him covertly and then flicking his glance away, but Chris’s rep with girls is so watertight that Isak hasn’t ever made a move on him, not that he would anyway, being so repressed and all. Chris keeps expecting to bump into him at the showers or any of Oslo’s cruising grounds, but he’s not struck lucky so far.

And Isak isn’t dating anyone as far as Chris knows, so seriously, why the fuck not. He steps around the corner and raises his eyebrows in a sexy _hey, look who’s here_ , one hand suggestively in his pocket, the other pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Neither Isak nor the object of his affection turn to look at him.

 _Oh shit_ , thinks Chris at the first sight of the guy Isak’s talking to; a tall blond guy who looks like a model, probably _is_ a fucking model, with hips and an ass to die for, die _in_ rather. He’s got swept-up hair in a quiff and a face that is prettier than most girls he’s ever seen; beautiful lips stretched in a permanently adoring smile, leaning one finely-sculpted cheek on the back of his fist as he watches Isak chatter absolute fucking nonsense.

 _Fuck,_ thinks Chris, now I would date _that_. I would go to a million parents’ dinners and boring concerts and endless shopping trips if it meant I had a chance with _him_.

But something in the way the guy’s looking at Isak and the fact he barely acknowledges Chris’s presence even though he’s got his hottest shirt on and his hair styled in the way that nobody can resist, Chris knows he isn’t on the guy’s radar by any means. And now he’s got Isak perched on his knee, one hand stroking at his abs underneath his shirt, and now Isak’s giggling, pulling at his hair and pressing little, stupid-kitten kisses all over his lips and rocking himself teasingly over the guy’s hips, and Chris literally cannot look away.

When Isak finally clocks him, turns and shoots him a narrow stare, a _get-the-fuck-away-from-my-mans_ glare, Chris is too stunned to press it, he simply turns on his heel and leaves them to it.

Jesus, why is everyone in the universe dating apart from _him_?

 

“Who’s that guy Isak’s with?” asks Chris of Magnus a short time later. Magnus is sitting disconsolately near the drinks table, nursing a small warm beer, watching Vilde dance clumsily, her arms above her head, her head rolling theatrically from side to side. It’s oddly adorable and Magnus can’t take his eyes off her.

“That guy? Oh that’s his new boyfriend, Even,” says Magnus, without taking his eyes off Vilde for a second.

Chris walks off, and doesn’t see Magnus’s cheek flame scarlet as he bites his lip.

Why did Chris have to bring up _Even_ , of all people.

Magnus doesn’t know much, but he knows he’s not _gay_ , at least he thinks about pussy waaaay too much to really be a hundred percent _gay_ … or even seventy-five percent gay … or fuck it even _ninety_ percent gay … but since Even started hanging around with Isak he thinks he might have a little, tiny, _weeny_ crush on his mate’s boyfriend.

It’s weird really, Magnus doesn’t go around thinking about guys, doesn’t go around thinking about kissing them or having sex with them at all, in normal life he’s a horny little fucker and permanently trying to chat girls up, so where _this_ comes from he has no clue. Perhaps it’s, like, the _novelty_ of it, the fact that it isn’t _that_ usual to see guys kissing in the street, or maybe it’s the fact that Isak now seems so … open, so _happy_ for a change … so perhaps Magnus is just, you know, _interested_ in gay stuff without, you know, actually _being_ gay.

When Even’s with Isak he makes Magnus’s heartrate speed up a little bit, and he can’t stop _looking_ ; watching the way that Even throws his head back when he laughs, the delicacy of the way Even moves, and crosses his legs, and the graceful way he curls himself around Isak that makes Magnus burn with something like interest, and something like … fuck, he doesn’t really know.

And it’s not like he wants to _kiss_ Even or anything, but okay, when he’s in bed at night, alone as always, sometimes he’ll feel himself chub up at a memory of something Even said or did, and okay maybe he’ll start imagining what it would be like to have Even laughing on top of him, or feel him holding him in that warm way he does when he says hi, and – now his imagination is speeding up, keeping pace with his swelling cock – then he does imagine what it would be like to have Even’s mouth on his, his tongue running over his parted lips, or have him kiss down his stomach and feel his soft hair in his hands, Magnus once ran his fingers through Even’s quiff to mess it up as a joke, and regretted it instantly, he wasn’t expecting to enjoy the hard-on it gave him so much …

Fuck, he’s getting a hard-on now just thinking about it, and this really isn’t the time or place …

Tonight’s the night he wants to make a move on Vilde, for fuck’s sake …

And of course Magnus is _not_ gay, so this is ridiculous, look, Vilde’s wearing _that_ dress that shows off the curve of her ass and she’s so pretty tonight, she’s laughing and natural and … Yeah, he’s gonna tap that, he’s definitely gonna …

And this feeling for Even is probably only a bit of a crush, just a tiny little, baby, bi-curious crush, that sometimes explodes into glorious technicolour when he’s lying with his hand running up and down his cock at night, imagining … _Jesus, does Isak really get fucked by Even every night?_

Magnus has only been thinking about Even for thirty seconds and he’s already got the hugest boner ever.

It’s going to be a bit of a problem if he wants to make his move on Vilde.

But it’s okay, Magnus thinks, you can feel all sorts of levels of attraction to people, and many of them you’ll never act on, you have to act on the one that feels strongest, and healthiest, and best for you … and right now, that best is Vilde.

Vilde is funny, she’s sweet, and importantly, single. Magnus wants to protect her, yeah that sounds stupidly sexist but he _does_ , he knows she has a hard time with her mom and he’s very used to seeing that sadness in her eyes, and sometimes he’ll give anything, _everything_ , to take that sadness away a little bit.

And Even isn’t sad, he’s with Isak, he’s got eyes for no one but Isak, and Isak loves him, he’s told Magnus that, and so honestly there’s no way that Magnus could ever compete, nor ever want to break his best-friend’s heart …

He’s not _settling_ for Vilde, he’s _choosing_ her: there’s choices you have to make in life, you don’t have to pick whatever’s offered to you, you’ve always got control over _that_. And right now, what’s best for him, what he wants most is Vilde, and so …

Okay, he knows what he’ll do, he’ll go jack off in the toilets to get rid of this Even-centred boner, and then his head will be clear enough to go chat up Vilde when she’s finished her dance. He’ll be calmer and less desperate and he’ll have gotten rid of his backed-up Even-lust and hopefully it’ll be a while before it builds up like that again. And hopefully Vilde will not be put off by him because he won’t be desperate any more. And desperate puts girls off, right?

Yep, that’s the plan. A good plan.

 

Vilde doesn’t know much, but she knows she liked it when Eva kissed her that night when she was drunk. Okay, not _liked_ it but she didn’t dislike it … all right, yeah she liked it, but it isn’t something she’s particularly wanting more of.

So why is she so bothered by Eva suddenly dating Noora?

Usually the girl squad would all be hanging around together but now it’s just Eva and Noora, sucking each other’s faces in a corner, and Sana isn’t here tonight, and Vilde doesn’t want to sit there like a lemon, or have everyone _looking_ at them, not that there’s anything _wrong_ with being a lesbian but Vilde’s not a lesbian and she doesn’t want anyone thinking she is, so ...

She looks around for Magnus, but he’s disappeared. She’s a bit offended, she was dancing mainly for his benefit, to try to make him interested enough to make a move, instead of sitting there watching him like a lost puppy.

But Eva’s sitting there watching, Noora’s got her hand up her skirt and one up her top and she’s necking Eva, but Eva’s watching _her_ , she’s taking Vilde in, running her eyes up and down Vilde’s legs, and fuck it, if Vilde isn’t rather enjoying the attention that she’s getting. This is a whole new level for her now, and before she knows it, she’s dancing in front of them, pulling her dress up, running her hands under her breasts, getting closer as she …

But as she leans Eva turns and kisses Noora back. _Record scratch_. Vilde stands, eyes wide, irritated for the second time in as many minutes. She feels suddenly foolish, although nothing actually _happened_ did it?

Then why does she feel like she’s been dumped?

There’s a tap on her shoulder, and it’s Magnus; eyes like saucers, he’s got a pink, rather flushed face and he looks like he’s been sweating.

“Vilde, can I go out with you?” blurts out Magnus.

Vilde looks him over consideringly. He really is a puppy dog.

“Kiss me first,” she says and pushes her tongue down his throat.

 

**Lørdag 03.30**

Chris doesn’t know much, but he knows the best woods to visit to look for sex; on Saturday nights the cruising ground is alive with couples, throuples, men doing it against trees and behind bushes, other guys standing watching them or jerking themselves off to the show. It’s a regular fucking thoroughfare tonight.

He’s finishing up his third blow job of the night, and he’s still annoyed about what Noora’s said to him, and he’s trying to sponge it out of his mind with a good round of cock, but nothing’s really working. He doesn’t want to go home, he doesn’t want to go back to the party, so he’s sitting on the ground, panting, whilst trying to work out how to get the guy in front of him off as quickly as possible.

And he’s wondering why he’s feeling so fucking miserable this week when he’s gotten laid so much, and it’s because he’s remembering the way that Isak looked as he was being held by that new guy of his, all bright and luminous and _possessive_ , he’s remembering the way that Noora slit her eyes at him with her arms around Eva as if she’d deadass _kill_ for her, he’s remembering the way that Magnus stared at Vilde so adoringly as if she was the only girl on the dancefloor.

 _Nobody’s gonna do that for me,_ he thinks. _Nobody cares that much for me._

 

**Søndag 22.00**

Chris is lying with a guy and they’re sharing a joint and the guy is blowing him, and smoking the joint as well; long deep drags on his cock alternating with long deep drags on the joint, and Chris is feeling relaxed and giggly, and this guy is _excellent_ at deep throating, and he actually makes Chris _laugh_ , he’s funny and witty and doesn’t take himself too seriously. He’s not your standard good looking guy, he’s a bit camp but he’s got _something_ about him, he’s got confidence, a lean alley-cat type of confidence that doesn’t take life too seriously or sex too seriously and right now this is exactly what Chris wants.

He’s got a sense of humour, this guy, he’s pretending to offer Chris’s cock a drag of the joint, and now he’s giving it a blowback, his lips curling around the head and tickling the slit with his tongue, and Chris just thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen, he’s lying there practically crying with laughter over his dick being shotgunned, and the guy starts laughing too, covering Chris’s stomach with kisses and biting on his hip. After they finish, they start chatting a bit, and Chris is actually interested to know what he has to say, because he’s had the best time ever this week, no actually this month, and part of him is anxious because in a minute the joint will be finished and the guy will be on his way, but he doesn’t want to see him go, he wants to keep him here awhile, talking.

“What’s … what’s your name?” asks Chris, as the guy stubs out the joint.

 _Damn._ He couldn’t think of any conversational topic better than _that_?

“Well aren’t we getting intimate,” says the guy, raising one eyebrow and holding out a hand to him. “Second base already. My name, since you ask, is Eskild.”

Chris jumps. _Eskild?_

“Um, have we … have we met before?”

Eskild shakes his head, puzzled. “I don’t think so. I think I’d have remembered someone like you,” he says with an arch stare that makes Chris’s cheek flush.

“You don’t go to the … Plaza gym showers by any chance?”

“Plaza?  No, I’m a penniless university student. UiO,” says Eskild with a charming laugh. “But pretty much everyone’s heard stories about how wild it gets there.”

 _Fucking Noora._ Chris rolls his eyes involuntarily. Damn, that girl is _good_. She really fooled him, getting him to out himself like that. For _fuck’s_ sake.

He shakes his head, but he’s still curious.

“Eskild? Do you know … a girl called Noora? Noora Saetre?”

Eskild nods. “Noora? Yeah, she’s my flatmate. Recent lesbian too.”

“Bisexual,” corrects Chris before he can stop himself, and Eskild shrugs.

“Whatever. Bi now, gay later, and all that.”

“You got something against bi people? There’s a B in LGBT, isn’t there?” snaps Chris, ruffled and a bit disappointed. He really likes this guy, and if this guy is going to prove himself a dick and be like all the other bi-erasing gays he’s met then he can absolutely _fuck off_. 

But Eskild is smiling and sitting up to roll another joint, poking at him teasingly with his foot. “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. I like bi men.”

Chris looks at him sharply. “Okayyy … it’s just lots of men don’t.”

“Well I’ve always been one for a challenge,” yawns Eskild flirtatiously.  “You want to go out some time?”

“Fuck, yes,” says Chris before he can stop himself, and Eskild laughs, teeth flashing in the dim light and raising his eyebrows with his characteristic sarcasm.

“Okay then. And before then do you think your cock can handle another bit of jay?”


	2. Baby Bi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eskild calls Chris "baby bi" and Even gives head to an imaginary girl for Magnus in the lunch queue. 
> 
> More Chriskild, Emja, Evgus, Nooreva and Evilde than you can shake a stick at. And why the fuck not.
> 
> A tiny touch of Evak and more coming in Part 3!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO ... thank you for all your lovely enthusiasm and feedback about this tiny bific! 
> 
> I had really thought it was only a one-shot but so many of you asked for more via comment and DM that I thought I should really oblige ... okay it wasn't hard ... and now there's even enough for a part 3! Which is currently being written and hopefully wont' be long!
> 
> I've got a hella lot of coursework stacking up so don't know when I'll complete Part 3 but bear with me!!! it'll be worth it, I promise!

**Fredag, 19.30**

Well, shit. Chris is totally here for this open relationship stuff. Free to get as much sex from guys and girls as he can handle, and _still_ having someone to come back to? Sign him _the fuck up_.

Eskild has only been licking Chris for about thirty seconds, and already Chris is a total _mess_. He’s on all fours holding on to the bedpost for dear life, his knees weak, his head spinning. Eskild’s behind him, one hand between Chris’s legs, gripping his dick firmly, anchoring him in position as Chris gasps and tries to thrash away from Eskild’s tongue darting in and around his ass and behind his hardening balls. Eskild chuckles wickedly as he probes his tongue deeper inside him, rhythmically squeezing Chris’s cock as he does so, making Chris absolutely lose his shit.

“Enjoying yourself, baby bi?”

“Yeah,” mutters Chris, it’s all he can do to get words out right now, “don’t fucking stop, I’ll die if you stop now.”

He loves the feeling of Eskild licking him _there_ , eating him out gently, doing stuff to him that nobody’s ever done, boy or girl. There’s a lot he does with Eskild that he doesn’t do with anyone else. He loves to feel Eskild using just the tips of his fingers to loosen him up, and the sensation of his blunt cock rubbing up and down over his ass as Eskild starts to penetrate him. He _never_ used to get fucked, but somehow it’s just different with Eskild. Like with blow jobs: Chris loves to have Eskild in his mouth, he loves to hear Eskild moan followed by the slick flood that coats his tongue, and he swallows him down, he _always_ swallows for him. He doesn’t know how to explain it, it’s just different with Eskild.

To be sure, he and Eskild have never actually discussed what they are, _who_ they are to each other, beyond a short, drunken discussion about their shared dislike of heteronormativity and how sad it was that Even and Isak were good as married while they were still both at school, but they’ve kind of fallen into a regular pattern; meeting up regularly a couple of times a week, and no questions asked about the other nights that they don’t see each other. There’s no obligations, no expectations, and they’re always hot for each other. It’s right up Chris’s street.

Truth be told, Chris looks forward to the times he’s with Eskild more than the times he’s free to cruise. Because there’s nothing boring about Eskild. He’s like a tiny universe all of his own, cracking jokes like a juggler spinning plates, or else succumbing to wild or dramatic moods that makes Chris howl with laughter. Eskild is all colours of the rainbow, he can be as bitchy as the next queen when he’s in the zone, or he can channel the straight-acting fuckboy in bed, easy as you like. Chris is fascinated with him, because he never knows what he’s going to get.

They’ve just spent half an hour fox-trotting across the room to old 1940’s songs, Eskild leading and Chris following, and Eskild’s pulling him around and they’re both laughing and giggling like kids as they collapse onto the bed, which is where the whole rimming thing started, and it’s only ending now with Chris coming around Eskild’s cock and Eskild riding him hard, pulling his hair back like he’s hauling on brakes.

Later, Chris watches Eskild get ready to go out; tonight Eskild’s going on a hen night with his cousin so it’s girls only; they’re going on a bar crawl and then on to a male strip club so Eskild is dragged up to the hilt. Chris leans on his elbow on the bed, watching as Eskild applies makeup, the full foundation, eyeliner and lippy. He’s going for the drag-queen meets goth hooker look; his tall lean body is poured into a tight black top, black net ballet skirt over skinny jeans, and a pink wig cut in a bob. Chris thinks he looks fire _as fuck_. 

“Put some eyeliner on me,” says Chris after a while, and Eskild flashes him a red-lipped smile. “Yeah? You’d like that, would you, baby bi?”

Chris laughs and turns his face up to him. “Go on. Do your worst.”

Eskild straddles him, coquettish and arch, carefully drawing black cat’s eyes on Chris’s eyelids, his mouth pursed into a kiss shape as he surveys his handiwork. “You’ve got beautiful eyes,” he murmurs, running his thumb under Chris’s eyelid to remove a smudge. “beautiful. Want some lipstick too?”

“Yeah,” whispers back Chris, because why the fuck not, and Eskild leans over him, rolling back the lipstick cap with a snap, applying it concentratedly over Chris’s lips before blotting it with a kiss. Chris opens his mouth to him, tasting the lipstick on their tongues, licking into Eskild’s mouth with a surge of pure want. His heart kicks into overdrive at the feeling of Eskild’s lips on his; he’s already feeling super horny because Eskild is sitting at _just_ the right angle on his dick, and he tilts his hips up so Eskild can feel him, but all he gets is a catty laugh in response.

“You’re just going to have to go out and spend that on some hot girl, baby bi. I hear there’s a party down at the club later tonight where you may strike lucky.”

“So I can’t spend it on you?” asks Chris, leaning back, hands roaming over Eskild’s hips and pulling him closer. “The way you’re looking it’ll only take a minute or two.”

Eskild raises one eyebrow and checks his diamante watch theatrically. “Well, I _do_ seem to have an, _uh_ , window in my schedule for the next ten minutes.”

Chris grins, pulling Eskild down on top of him. “Consider that window filled.”

 

**Søndag, 01.30  
**

“Fuck, I need a drink,” moans Sonja, throwing herself down on Emma’s bed. “There’s nothing here to fucking _drink_.”

Emma searches in her cupboards, and finds an old bottle of aquavit with a sprig of caraway in it, it’s kind of a gift bottle really, the kind of thing you’d buy from a fair to give to your grandad when you’ve forgotten his birthday, but Emma digs it out anyway and offers it to her. Sonja uncorks the top with a flourish and downs a few gulps, coughing. “Ugh. This sucks but I hope it’ll do the trick.”

Emma takes a few sips herself and chokes; it’s incredibly strong and kind of warmish, but she feels the tell-tale heat coursing down into her stomach and after a few minutes she feels kind of better, though the shock and surprise she feels from just bumping into Isak and Even kissing in the club still makes her feel a little bruised.

“Are you okay?” asks Emma tentatively. Sonja shrugs. “Well I guess we were bound to see them around sometime. Oslo’s not _that_ big.”

Emma takes another hit from the bottle, trying to block out Isak’s proud expression as he pulled his mouth away from Even’s. _Fuck it_ , she thinks rebelliously to herself. _Fuck Isak, fuck Even, fuck both of them shoving it in everyone’s faces._

Sonja takes the bottle from her without cleaning it and takes another gulp, burps, swears, and lights up a cigarette.

“It’s not a surprise, you know. Even told me he fancied guys a couple of years ago. We used to joke about which one of us would get Harry Styles into bed first. Added some spice to our sex life, I can tell you.”

Emma tries not to look amazed. “Well I didn’t think Isak would be into guys, you know. He always had such a reputation.”

“Well I knew the first time I saw him,” says Sonja bitterly. “Typical closet case. Always tons of those hanging around Even. I just didn’t think he’d actually break us up, the little bitch.”

_Fuck Isak, fuck him and his stupid happy proud bashful face with his arm round his fucking boyfriend. Fuck Even too while they’re at it._

Sonja leans back, drawing on her cigarette, puffing out a cloud of white with a pensive expression. Emma admires the muscles of her throat moving as she swallows. She’s got the most amazing skin, and Emma can see plenty of it; she’s wearing a crop top and no bra, and Emma can see the points of her nipples peaking through the fabric. Sonja looks up, meets her gaze, follows it down, smiles. There’s something in the way she’s smiling that makes Emma’s heart trip a step.

“Fuck them,” says Sonja, moving over so she’s lying pressed up next to Emma. “Let’s have a party ourselves.”

Emma’s never kissed a girl before but that doesn’t mean she’s never thought about it; of course she’s _thought_ about it, and it’s probably on the list of things that she’d like to tick off before she’s dead or whatever. And there’s no denying that there’s some kind of spark between her and Sonja, Sonja’s witty and funny and makes her laugh, and she’s older and more confident, and … with Sonja moving closer to her looking like _that_ …. right now there really isn’t a good reason why the fuck not.

 “You’re so hot with that hair,” breathes Sonja, one hand teasing up the back of Emma’s neck. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Emma’s heart does a little lurch in her chest because Sonja is giving her one of _those_ looks, and Sonja is so close, with her cinnamon-scented breath and her honey-coloured hair and her heavy-lidded eyes, and her teasing smile. So why the fuck not. And maybe she’s still pissed at seeing Isak looking so fucking _happy_ , and anger is a strong aphrodisiac, and probably the strong drink has something to do with why she doesn’t move away when Sonja runs her lips along her jawline and presses her lips to the corner of Emma’s mouth.

Discovery No. 1 of the night: There’s nothing quite like kissing someone else to get back at someone who dumped you. It might not make it all better, but it _definitely_ takes the edge off.

Discovery No. 2 of the night: Kissing girls is actually pretty nice. They don’t taste the same, not that slightly salty, alkaline taste you get from boys. They don’t have stubble and they’re soft in interesting places. Like here … and here … and definitely here …

Sonja makes a purring sound as Emma’s hands move over her. Emma peeks through her lashes. Sonja’s eyes are closed and her lips are pulling at Emma, licking dreamily into her mouth, sending off quite a ripple-effect of different emotions into her stomach.

 _She’s just doing it to get over Even_ , Emma thinks in a strange detached way, _it’s revenge sex, that’s all it is, revenge sex._

But hey, Emma right now is totally up for revenge sex.

Discovery No. 3 of the night: Sonja is _good_ in bed, she’s obviously been one of the reasons why Even stuck around so long, she’s active and funny and charming and _giving_ , she likes to pull back occasionally to look at what a mess she’s making of Emma in between sessions of tonguing her neck and sucking in her ear, but generally, she’s all about giving Emma the best time she can.

And if that best time means peeling Emma’s panties off while she’s stretched over Sonja’s lap, with hands running over her ass and between her legs, then so be it.

Emma’s not really sure how they got to this stage, but she doesn’t give a shit when Sonja pulls her over her knee. Emma’s hands are stretched out in front of her, bracing herself on the floor by her fingertips, balanced precariously over Sonja’s knees. One of Sonja’s hands is gripping her by the scruff of her neck, the other softly stroking her bottom, cupping, patting and squeezing, warming her up.

“You look like you’ve been a bad girl tonight,” breathes Sonja.

“Yes mistress,” Emma murmurs obediently, she’s not normally into this, but there’s something ridiculously hot about being on all fours with her ass in the air over Sonja’s highcrossed thighs. Her heartrate kicks up a notch, she’s feeling naked and vulnerable and exposed in a way she hasn’t felt before, but Sonja’s holding her so firmly, so tenderly, that she knows she’s not going to fall.

Sonja laughs, low and pure, and Emma wants to purr like a cat at the sound. “And you know what happens to naughty girls, don’t you?”

Emma can’t remember what she says in response, because she can feel one of Sonja’s fingers gliding between her legs, searching, and at the first brush of her fingertips over her clit she tenses; blood rushing to the sharpest point, making her feel hard, and horny and shamefully wet. “Shit, do that again,” she groans, but now Sonja’s teasing her, stroking gently around her hotspots, lingering over places only to move away when Emma tries to buck up against her. It’s maddening and infuriating and arousing, and Emma’s very wet by now, but Sonja has other ideas.

The smack, when it comes, takes Sonja by surprise, it’s clean and sharp and takes her breath away. The shock of the sudden pain makes her stiffen and let out a yelp, but Sonja’s got her, holding her down by the scruff of her neck, smoothing the pain away with her warm hands and murmuring comfortingly into her ear.

“Shush, shush. You gonna be quiet for me, baby girl?”

Emma nods furiously, she’s trying so hard to do what Sonja wants, but she can’t help but cry out again at the second slap which makes her lunge and writhe over Sonja’s lap, so Sonja has to wrestle her back into position, using one leg to hold Emma down. “Hush, hush, baby girl, you’re not going to make me angry now are you?” She puts her smooth hand firmly over Emma’s mouth for the next few slaps. “If I hear one more word out of you, I’ll double your discipline for the day.”

So who knew, Sonja turns out to be an absolute _domme_ , with her firm commands and the way she keeps Emma in check with one hand holding her head down while the other warms her bottom up. She’ll vary the tempo and the speed to keep Emma continually on the edge; sometimes she’ll spank her so hard and mercilessly for a few minutes that Emma will almost forget to breathe, but then she’ll hold her so tenderly, soothing her scarlet skin with her cool fingers, whispering in her ear that she’s been a good girl, such a good girl, only a little longer now, only a little longer.

Emma’s slipping slowly into subspace, she’s feeling like she’s flying or floating. She’s trying to rut against Sonja’s smooth thigh, searching for some kind of friction that will relieve the building tension, but she’s being disciplined, and she knows she can’t seek her own pleasure, she has to wait for Sonja to give it to her.

Which she doesn’t.

And now Sonja abruptly releases her, and it’s nearly morning, and Sonja is smoking another cigarette and not looking at her, and Emma is kneeling on the floor waiting for her, internally cartwheeling over the burning sensation of her bruised ass, and the grinding need that Sonja has awoken between her legs. She’s still feeling hard and wet, and she wishes she could bring herself off, but she knows Sonja wouldn’t like it.

“Are you OK?” asks Sonja, stretching out her hand and stroking Emma’s hair like a cat. Emma rubs herself against Sonja’s hand at the touch. “More than OK,” she says quietly, but she feels that Sonja’s already moved away from her somehow.

“Don’t ever date a bisexual,” slurs Sonja bitterly. “You can’t fucking trust them. Don’t ever fucking trust them with your heart. They’re not worth it.”

“I thought Even was pan,” says Emma tentatively, but Sonja snorts. “Bi, pan, what’s the fucking difference? They’ll all break your heart in the end.”

Emma isn’t sure what to say to this. Because, what does this say about them?

 

**Mandag, 12.30**

It’s pretty much acknowledged now between the two of them that Magnus is going to have sex with Vilde. The problem is that he’s still a virgin, and the other problem is that he’s still obsessed with Even.

Vilde is so lovely and into him, and she’s got an amazing soft body and beautiful big eyes, and Magnus really _really_ wants to be the guy for her, but he’s feeling nervous and inexperienced and Vilde will expect him to know how to do everything, and although he’s paid attention enough to know how to actually put a condom on, he has no idea how to make sex _good._  

And he’s watched enough porn to get a handle on the moves but -

He turns the corner to the lunch hall and stiffens as he sees a familiar tall figure standing in the lunch queue in front of him.

Even always looks so fine; he’s so _tall_ , he’s even taller than Magnus, and when he wears his windcheaters and hoodies he looks so _big_ , so daddyish, so … When Magnus hugged him today he tripped through nerves and overbalanced slightly as they embraced, so Even caught him and Magnus felt the strength of his body as he pulled him upright. Magnus would be lying if he didn’t say it turned him on a little. He can still remember the hot feeling as the blood suddenly bloomed through his body, the sharp pricking of interest at the base of his cock, the way he wanted Even to pull him closer, feel his arms wrap around him and …

_Oh shit, not this again._

But he just can’t help himself, can he, because Even’s noticed him approaching now and given him _that_ smile, so Magnus starts talking through pure nerves, and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is asking him whether it’s easier to have sex with a guy or a girl.

 _Fuck’s sake_ , Magnus.

But luckily Even’s _exactly_ the kind of person you can talk about that kind of stuff in the lunch queue without thinking anything’s weird about it.

“Well, you don’t get to have sex with a guy easily unless he’s good and ready,” says Even thoughtfully, as if Magnus has just asked whether he liked mustard or relish with his hamburger. “You have to relax him, loosen him up, get him good and wet so you have plenty of time to get in the mood. I think guys and girls often try to rush it too much, and then it’s too much pressure for the guy, and not enjoyable enough for the girl.”

Magnus can’t take all of this in, his brain has literally exploded at the _get him good and wet_ , and he pummels at himself mentally. _Focus!_ He needs to focus, he’s got Even in front of him talking pure filth out of his beautiful mouth, this really is a once-in-a-lifetime moment, and he needs to stop dribbling like an overexcited puppy. He’ll be humping Even’s leg next if he doesn’t calm down pretty quickly.

“What do you do for foreplay? With girls, I mean,” he asks hastily, hoping Even can’t see him blush.

“Much the same as I do with guys. Kissing, obviously, that gets you good and close to someone. All over them, every inch of their bodies. The best thing you can do is hold off as much as possible until you’re really on the edge. And there’s rimming, you can do that with girls and guys, though from what I’ve seen, some girls can be a bit weird about that … but going down on a girl until she’s really ready is pretty incredible I have to say.”

Oh god, will Even just stop talking about guys, Magnus _can’t even_. “How do you go down on a girl?” he asks, curiously, and it’s amazing how natural he feels with Even, he couldn’t ever ask this question from Jonas, but he knows that Even isn’t going to laugh at him or take the piss.

“How? Kind of like this.”

Even angles his knuckle up to his mouth, opens his lips and lets his tongue glide slowly over his skin. He’s sucking and licking at the nub of his finger slowly, hot eyes half-closed, tongue curling around his knuckle, turning his head gently from side to side to change the angle and the depth, not taking his gaze off Magnus for a second. He’s got that laughing smile on his lips, the one that looks like life is the best and most exciting joke ever, and the warm concentrated stare that looks that the person in front of him is the most beautiful and fascinating human he’s ever met.

Magnus swallows hard. He’s transfixed, he’s never seen Even like _this_ , doing something so intimate, so raw and so … _hot_. His head is swimming with all sorts of imagined scenarios exploding in all directions, he wants to see Even doing that thing he’s doing with his tongue in real life, with him, on him, in him…

Even is speaking now but it’s more of a murmur and Magnus has to lean even closer to hear what he’s saying: “Depending on how she’s built, you can put your whole lips round it like this …” and he mimes a movement that nearly has Magnus coming on the spot … “but all girls are different, so generally if you lick up and down, with a few side-swipes, you can work out what she likes by how she reacts to it.” He echoes the instructions with a few licks of his tongue. “Some girls are so sensitive that they can’t handle direct touching there, others you need to go at it for a bit.”

Magnus is in serious trouble. He’s standing on the tips of his toes with a really huge erection hidden from view under the lunch counter. He can’t move away otherwise everyone will see it, but at the same time he can’t look away from Even, standing there with his naughty, laughing look, performing oral sex on an imaginary girl in the _fucking lunch queue …_

A cough interrupts them. A catering lady is standing looking at them, hands on hips.

“ _If_ you boys have quite finished,” she says heavily, “do you want the regular or the vegetarian option?”

Magnus can’t even get to the next lesson before he needs to whack off over Even, and he does in the nearest boys’ bathroom, one hand braced on the toilet cistern, the other working himself firmly as he remembers every detail of Even’s face, his lips, and his tongue. The memory of Even’s long-lashed eyes, half-closed as his tongue loops over his knuckle is the final trigger in a long flammable line of fire-hot details, and before he knows it, Magnus spatters uncontrollably all over the back of the toilet seat and the wall.

But his hard-on isn’t half spent yet, he’s gonna have to go another round if there’s any hope of getting his penis down to a manageable size. His brain clears of Even and he rests awhile, stroking himself off as his breathing regulates, this time with the image of Vilde naked rising in front of him. He concentrates on the curve of her ass and her soft breasts, and feels desire and excitement welling up inside him.

He is _definitely_ going to fuck her this week.

 

**Torsdag, 20.45**

Eva buckles the strap-on into place, pulls it into position, and right away the sensation of the deep weight jutting out in front of her starts to make her clit grow and harden. She wasn’t expecting this, but it feels ridiculously good. Do guys feel this way when they get hard? It’s like an instant sex-injection, testosterone coursing through her veins, her field of vision narrowing to two feet in front of her. She feels like she could fuck anything and everything right now.

Noora’s lying naked underneath her, watching Eva manipulate the dildo with bright eyes. “Let me?”

She rips open the condom packet with her sharp white teeth and catches the condom with her tongue. Eva’s lying on her back, playing with her cock, enjoying the way that she can rub against it and create the best and most exquisite pressure. The way it shapes itself into her hand feels so natural and right, she’s really hard now and as she rubs her cock up and down she feels more and more melded to it as if it really is part of her. She’d worried it would feel freaky or artificial but it’s feeling more real than she could ever have imagined.

_Why the fuck have they never done this before?_

Noora rolls up to her, condom poised on her tongue, and locking eyes with Eva, starts to roll it down over her cock using just her mouth. It’s pretty much the hottest sight Eva has ever seen, and she’s seen plenty.

“Tell me again why we need to use condoms,” mumurs Eva. “It’s not like I’m gonna get you pregnant or anything.”

 _Although I wish I could_ , she thinks, because the pressure of her cock is making it pretty much unable to think about anything else.

“It’s just hygiene,” says Noora, opening her mouth around Eva’s cock to lubricate it, her tongue licking up and down. Eva stares at her; this is the hottest thing she’s ever seen, Noora’s red lips stretched around her cock sends her senses into overdrive. She puts her hand on the back of Noora’s head to guide her; Noora winks at her and the sight sends Eva’s breathing into the stratosphere.

“Ohh God,” sighs Eva, leaning her head back. It’s so intense and so overwhelming that she needs to take a moment. Noora kisses her way up Eva’s stomach until she’s straddling her, staring down into Eva’s eyes.

“Ready?” whispers Noora, and Eva just nods. _Fuck, I want to fuck you so bad._

Eva’s hands are playing with Noora’s nipples, trying to get them hard, so she’s a bit taken by surprise as Noora suddenly lurches to one side and knees her in her side. Noora swears suddenly.

“You OK?” Eva giggles.

“Ow,” whispers Noora. “It’s a bit tricky. Can you go on top?”

Eva doesn’t need asking twice. She rolls on top of her obligingly, pulling Noora’s creamy thighs apart and holding her legs above her shoulders. She can feel Noora’s body opening up around her as she penetrates her, gently, with a long deep movement that makes them both shudder. When she finally bottoms out, she’s not at first sure where to put her hands – each side of Noora’s shoulders? by her sides? but as Noora reaches up and puts her arms around her neck they naturally fall into a position where Eva’s resting her weight on her elbows and tucking her hands underneath Noora’s back.

For Eva it feels as natural as flying. She moves her hips gently, experimentally, and feels Noora’s body begin to rock underneath her, slowly at first and then faster. Eva’s feeling hard and needy and entitled, and soon she realises that she’s ridiculously close, she needs to pull back if she’s to last any time at all.

She sits up on her knees and hoists Noora’s hips up so that she can fuck her, hard and shallow. The weight of her cock slapping against Noora’s body, the friction as it drives into Noora to be met by soft resistance and the drag of the dildo as she pulls back, making her clit harden with the pressure of each repeated thrust. Noora’s gasping as she’s being fucked, head thrown back, blonde hair sweaty across her face, which drives Eva absolutely _insane_. And as she’s fucking her, something magical happens, and it’s as if Eva’s own body grows and swells and she can feel through her cock, feel everything inside Noora, and even though she knows it’s all in the mind, desire’s all in the mind, right now she’s so connected to Noora that - _Oh my God I’m actually fucking her_ , thinks Eva, _I’m fucking her with my cock_ , and that thought bursts her mind open.

“Shit, that was incredible,” she stammers out, a few minutes later when she’s actually remembered how to talk. She’s lying across Noora’s warm stomach, head against Noora’s left breast, with Noora holding her close. “I came so hard. I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm like that before.”

It’s hard for Eva to tell what’s wrong, because Noora’s smiling at her as lovingly as usual and stroking her hair, but there’s just something in the slightly stiff way that she says, “I’m glad you had a good time, baby,” that makes Eva’s heart sink into her absolute _boots_.

Eva sits up. “What’s wrong, baby? Didn’t you enjoy it?”

Noora’s blue eyes flick away bashfully. “I enjoyed watching _you_ ,” she says carefully, but Eva’s already covering her face with her hands. “Oh shit, I thought you were having a good time too, didn’t you come?”

“Well,” says Noora carefully, she knows that Eva’s sensitive and vulnerable right now and she’s trying to balance truth with gentleness, “I can’t come through penetration, you know that. We’ve talked about that, right?”

Eva’s on a downward spiral now, she’s feeling ashamed and she’s still wearing that stupid fucking dildo so she snaps it off and throws it into her bag. “I know, but I thought it would be different with me, I thought I could make you come. Fuck!”

Noora sits up, looking alarmed. “Eva, oh my god, I had an amazing time baby, I loved feeling you inside me, just because I can’t come like that doesn’t mean …”

But Eva’s hurting, she’s embarrassed and ashamed; fucking with a cock feels so real to her, so immense and life-changing and beautiful that to know it wasn’t like that for Noora is almost more than she can bear. “Forget it,” she flings over her shoulder. “Just forget it ever happened.”

She pulls on some clothes and heads for the door. “Eva! Baby!” cries Noora, but she’s already gone.

 

**Torsdag 23.30**

Chris is squeezed up in a corridor at some party, and he’s kissing a girl, she’s a good kisser, she’s licking into his mouth while he unsnaps her bra with practiced fingers. He doesn’t know her name, but that’s okay, she probably doesn’t know his. Before he knows it, almost out of habit, he’s got his cock out and laid it in the girl’s palm, and she’s squeezing up and down his shaft, rolling his hardening head between two fingers, while he leans two hands either side of her on the wall behind, and rests his head on her neck.

Something’s a bit off tonight though; he’s not finding his stroke, although the girl’s doing pretty well, she’s obviously quite experienced at it, but for some reason he’s feeling a bit tense, distracted, all he can think about is what Eskild’s doing tonight and the way he looked in that pink tux as he left Chris's bed earlier.

Is he still at that university ball? Chris is suddenly seized by the urge to gatecrash the event and surprise him. Or no, maybe they’re already on their way back, they might not be out that late as the uni only has a licence til twelve, or perhaps it was shit and Eskild decided to call it a night. If he’s back, might he want pizza? Chris could swing by the all-night place and bring Eskild his favourite mushroom and garlic concoction that makes his breath reek for days. 

Okay, that sounds like a plan, all he needs to do is finish this handjob and then he’ll be free to go find Eskild.

But the girl is already speaking to him, interrupting his thoughts. He raises his head and looks at her.

“Are you drunk?” she asks.

Chris furrows his brows. “No, why?”

“It’s just …” and she indicates his limp cock shrivelling in her hand. “You don’t seem to be really in to it, so I wondered whether you might have had a bit too much to drink?”

 _Fuck. Get your game together._ Chris shakes his head. “No, you’re doing great baby, you keep at it. Put it in your mouth, kid, I’d like to see that.”

But when she does, kneeling down and using both hands for extra friction, he closes his eyes and all he can think of is Eskild sitting on his lap putting eyeliner on him. He concentrates on his image, brings him closer, makes it more real. Eskild leans over and kisses him with a lipsticked mouth, and he hardens instantly. He rocks his hips up against Eskild, and the girl gasps as he thrusts quite savagely into her mouth, so he holds her hair to keep her still, holding Eskild’s hips tightly, still feeling the sensation of the other boy’s lips against him.

It doesn’t take long, and he’s deep inside Eskild when he comes.

 

**Fredag, 00.01**

Vilde’s sitting nervously on her bed, watching the clock. She’s done and redone her makeup at least four times, and changed outfits twice. Now she’s wearing a short white thing that almost looks like a babydoll nightdress, and no underwear. She wasn’t sure whether to wear the red lingerie set that Magnus had bashfully presented her with on her birthday two weeks ago, but it doesn’t fit well and the label itches. What the hell. She’ll only end up taking it off anyway.

Vilde’s not a virgin, but she’s never enjoyed sex as much as other people seem to, especially not the people that have had sex with her. She hopes Magnus isn’t going to be like that, but part of the attraction is his puppydog behaviour, she knows his prime concern is just to make her happy. So if it takes her ages to come through oral sex, maybe he won’t mind, not like Willhell, who had winced with horror when she suggested it, and lasted exactly seven swipes of the tongue before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and saying that it was not his thing.

She’d dropped a hint to Magnus about how much she liked oral sex earlier that week, and seen his eyes widen. _I hope he’ll remember_ , she thought to herself as she glances at the clock. _I hope he won’t be much longer._

There’s a knock at the door. _Finally._ Vilde swings her hair over her shoulders and bites at her lips to turn them red. She opens the door, leaning casually against the jamb, making sure that the light from the bedroom shines artfully through her filmy nightdress and outlines her body to its best effect.

“Hey,” says Eva miserably from the darkness outside. “Can I come in?”

 _Oh my God._ Vilde isn’t sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. On the one hand, she’d been looking forward to Magnus’s visit, but on the other hand he’s so ridiculously, impolitely late, and she hasn’t gotten any time with Eva for what feels like years.

“Yes, yes of course, come in!” Vilde pulls at Eva’s hand, and as Eva moves into the light Vilde can see that she’s been crying.

“You look amazing,” sniffs Eva, suddenly taking in Vilde’s outfit. “I’m sorry to disturb you. Is Magnus over?”

Vilde shakes her head vehemently. “No, no, he’s not. Are you OK?”

“I should go,” says Eva, turning hopelessly away from her. “I don’t want to cramp your style.”

“You’re not cramping anything!” Vilde pulls her into the room and pushes her onto the bed where Eva rolls over and buries her face into the pillow. Vilde clambers up and lies down beside her, stroking her arm. “I’m glad you came. What’s wrong?”

“I walked out on Noora,” says Eva indistinctly into Vilde’s shoulder, and Vilde feels the warm wet tears sliding down her neck and under her nightdress. Instinctively she wraps her arms around her, and Eva turns her face into her neck as Vilde strokes her back to calm her.

It’s all innocent enough, but Vilde’s heart is suddenly pounding, she’s aware of just how naked she feels against Eva’s jeans and army jacket, and the short nightie is slipping over her hip and she’s not wearing any underwear. Eva’s arm is over her warm bare flank and it’s all friends and totally platonic and Vilde really shouldn’t be wondering whether Eva would be happy to give her head for hours on end.

“Hold me,” murmurs Eva, moving closer, in all her delicious tomboyish smell of skin, and hair, and sex.

And Vilde does.

 

When Magnus comes by Vilde’s house half an hour later carrying the bunch of flowers that he'd left behind by accident and had to go back for, the lights are out in the house and no one answers the door to his repeated knocking. He sends a few texts to VILDE GIRL OF MY DREAMS but she doesn’t answer, and she doesn’t pick up the phone when it rings.

Maybe he got the wrong evening?

When Chris turns up at the Kollektivet half an hour later with a reeking pizza box, no one appears to be home. The pitch dark of the windows above looks like Noora and Lynn are either asleep or out too.

It’s a very dark road home for both of them.

 

TO BE CONTINUED …


	3. You Don't Fuck With Your Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Even is always horny at night, Magnus is always second choice and P Chris discovers both that Eva is handy with a dick and that there can be strings to his no-strings fun with Eskild ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay - had a REALLY important term paper to get finished this week - and as soon as that was done I wrote 8K words in one sitting ahahaha! I had such great feedback and prompts that I couldn't resist trying to incorporate them all - as a result this was meant to be the last chapter but there's enough material to split it and arrange a CHAPTER 4 now too (huzzah!) so if your faves aren't in this one then hopefully they'll be in the finale! Finale up Sunday night my darlings xx

**Mondag 01.30**

Even loves Sonja going on top during sex, and this is his favourite position; the reverse cowgirl so he can get a full view of Sonja’s ass and slender back. She’s really working it now, rolling her hips in a circular movement so he’s getting maximum friction, looking back at him over her shoulder with hot eyes, sucking on her fingers like a baby. She swivels herself around his cock with a movement that makes Even arch his back and jam his heels into the mattress. _Fuck_. This is _so good_ , Sonja is hot AF right now, and Even’s literally only moments away from coming …

But something's not quite right, not quite real. His body feels strangely wooden and unresponsive. A pillow appears and smacks itself on his cheek. Sonja disappears into a haze of orange dust, which becomes the streetlight shining through the curtains onto the duvet next to him. With a dizzy lurch, he realises that he’s lying in bed next to a sleeping Isak, with the biggest boner he’s ever had stabbing at the sheets.

 _Shit,_ he thinks. _That_ felt really real.

He hasn’t had a sex dream in ages, not since he got together with Isak – they’ve had so much sex in recent weeks that perhaps the sex cravings just hasn’t had time to build up so much. And he can’t remember the last time he’d had a sex dream about _Sonja_ even when they were still together, for goodness sake. Maybe it was because he and Isak had bumped into Sonja with Emma in the club last week. He can still remember Sonja’s shocked expression, closing down instantly to polite chilliness, and Emma’s look of muffled fury. They’d exchanged a couple of embarrassed hellos, before Sonja had stepped around and away from them, dragging Emma with her.

He had recently, until that moment in the club, forgotten that he’d dumped her, forgotten about the pain he’d caused her, forgotten even that she’d ever _existed._

He’s a _bad_ person.

A little snore erupts into the air next to him, and he turns his head. Isak is lying in a small curled-up heap next to him, breathing softly, wrapped in most of the duvet like a doughnut. He _always_ steals the duvet. Even’s dark thoughts evaporate into the night air instantly. He leans his head on his hand fondly to watch his boyfriend sleep. It’s literally adorable. Isak’s totally out for his little count.

Even’s got a huge hard-on, and there’s no way he’s sleeping with a cock pressing its way out of the bed, but his options are limited. Isak’s asleep, and he’s not sure he wants to jerk off thinking about Sonja anyway. There’s too many attendant bad thoughts that come with Sonja, too many shadows that make him remember unhappy things and sad times in his life. It’s not really her fault, but there it is. He wishes Isak was awake; Isak, the boy of now, who makes him only ever think of good things, the boy who represents the best and happiest time in his life, the boy whose time he is still living.

“Isaaaaak,” he whispers teasingly into his ear. “Isaaaaaaak.”

Isak groans, a small kittenish murmur that Even loves, and wriggles himself deeper into the duvet, leaving only one leg poking out. It’s pretty warm tonight so Isak’s sleeping naked, and Even’s loving it. He cosies up to Isak, pressing his nose into his neck, smelling his beautiful Isak-smell, the scent of hair and skin and toothpaste. The mere experience of holding him makes Even’s cock ache, and he wriggles underneath the duvet to find Isak’s small body from behind, rubbing his hard-on against the warm cleft underneath Isak’s buttocks. The touch of his bottom against Even’s dick is electric; Even shudders as he burrows himself against Isak’s thighs, winds his arms around him to stroke his stomach and kisses the back of his neck.

“Noooo,” Isak moans in his sleep and tries to push him away. “Eveeeeen. I’m asleeeeep.”

“I knoooow,” teases Even, he’s finding all this elongating of vowels ridiculously hot for some reason. “I can’t sleep, baby, I’m toooo horneeeeyyyyy.”

“Ugh,” grumbles Isak, pulling the duvet over his head. “Sort yourself out.”

Even sighs, groping underneath the duvet, only to get kicked by Isak’s bare foot. “I don’t want to be by myself, baby. I want company.”

“Fuck offffffffff,” grumps back Isak. “I don’t want to sit on your dick at three in the morning.”

“It’s only one-thirty,” says Even reasonably, but Isak’s breathing is deepening again, he sounds like he’s drifting off already.

“Please can I fuck your thighs then, please?” Even doesn’t want to beg but he’s kind of desperate here. Isak moans. “No. I want to sleep.”

“You could always have sleep sex?” pursues Even, stroking up the back of Isak’s exposed thighs. Isak shivers in response and bats him off. “No. Sounds kinda rapey to me.”

“It’s not rapey, that’s the point," says Even, slightly offended. "All you have to do is lie there, you don’t have to do anything, I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

Isak huffs, face pressed into the pillow. “Go on then. Just don’t wake me up too much.”

 _Oh yes. This is better._ Even marvels at the dim sight of Isak’s lean-muscled back and rolls against him, moulding himself to his lover’s shape. Isak moans again, but feebly, and Even lies curved against his spine, feeling his cock sharpen with interest from the heat between Isak’s legs. He lets his mouth fall against the back of his boy’s neck, feeling the tiny blond hairs tickle his nose and the rise and fall of his breathing beneath him. When he’s about as hard as he can bear, he starts to rock his cock gently into the groove created between Isak’s ass and thighs, feeling the smaller boy shift and squirm in his sleep.

“Is this okay?” whispers Even, and Isak hums sleepily in agreement. Encouraged, Even grasps Isak’s slender hips with both of his larger hands, tipping him up to create a deeper angle of thigh and ass, whilst pushing further against the firm ridge of Isak’s buttocks. There’s something about the sight of Isak lying supplicant beneath him that’s really firing him up, Isak is all there – his beautiful boyfriend is all there for him - and as his cock noses its way between Isak’s thighs suddenly there’s a deep well of warmth and friction and softness there, as well as exactly the right amount of tautness and tightness to encircle him fully and make him groan as he pulls back. He pushes helplessly against his boyfriend again and again, he’s surrounded by Isak, full of the scent of his hair and the heat of his skin and –

and –

 – and he’s gonna come right now, but he also doesn’t want to mess Isak up while he’s sleeping, so right at the very last moment he pulls himself away from Isak’s warmth and grabs a tissue. Bathed in glorious contentment, he chucks the tissue across the room and rolls back to snuggle against Isak. He’s just drifting off to sleep when Isak speaks in his baby-boy grumpy-Piglet voice:

“Right, now you’ve woken me up good and properly, you don’t get to sleep until you’ve made me come too.”

 

**Tirsdag 20.30**

Emma’s standing with her heels locked together, bent over in a perfect U, hands clasping at her ankles. She’s been waiting for she doesn’t know how long – Sonja likes to make her wait – and she knows that if she moves an inch she’ll get caned again. The muscles up the back of her thighs are in spasm and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of high-heeled shoes with a lock on so she can’t run. Sonja enjoys watching her stretch.

Maybe if she’s particularly good Sonja will let her go down on her again like she did last week, Emma kneeling and Sonja leaning against the wall, pulling Emma’s hair until her eyes watered. But Sonja doesn’t often let Emma touch her – although sometimes after she’s been particularly harshly punished Sonja will take Emma on her knee to be comforted. Emma loves it when Sonja holds her gently, kisses away her tears and strokes her hurts better.

But standing at that kind of angle is hard to maintain for a novice sub, and suddenly one of her ankles slips and she keels to the side. Quickly she corrects herself but it’s too late. Her mistress has seen her, and she’s displeased. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Sonja’s high-heeled boots approaching her with quick, sharp taps, and she looks down guiltily. She hasn’t yet been given permission to look up when she’s being disciplined.

“I thought I told you not to move?” snaps Sonja and Emma flinches as she hears the swish of the cane before she feels it. The next moment she hisses in pain as the cane lands in a stinging line across her buttocks, giving her a brief second of shock before the burning white-hot heat sears into her flesh. She cries out – she can’t help it – and for her insolence she gets another, perfectly aligned, cut of the whip in the same place.

“Aaaah –“ she cries out involuntarily.

“Don’t disrespect me again,” scolds Sonja, but the burning pain is too much, and Emma lets out a shuddering sob. She can’t see Sonja, she can’t touch her, but she can just about hear her when she speaks.

“You know the rules, baby girl. If you cry out, you get five more.”

Emma struggles to breathe. She _can’t_ breathe – she’s going to faint – but then there’s Sonja’s cool hand on the back of her neck, stroking her hair, holding her still, holding her down and in position like the good girl she needs to be. Another hand strokes her hurting bottom gently. Emma feels the rush of endorphins surging through her, the best pain relief she could need. She won’t need to give the safe word this time.

Sonja’s voice sounds softly in her ear. “Good girl. Now can you count? Count with me.”

Emma grits her teeth. She can do this. _She can_.

Sonja stands up, moves away and Emma closes her eyes. A swish, another burning line cuts into her flinching buttocks and she bites her lip to stop herself moaning. Sonja waits. After a long moment, Emma finds her voice.

“One.”

Her mistress hums in approval, stroking the pain away as Emma masters her breathing again. “Ready?”

Emma clenches her teeth.

“Two.”

“Three.”

On the fourth cut of the cane, Emma has to take a deep breath to avoid blacking out. She’s terrified she won’t be able to speak but she does, with only the faintest suggestion of a tremor.

“Four.”

Sonja’s pleased. She’s stroking Emma’s hair gently. “Good girl. Nearly there. You can do this. Last one.”

Emma is trembling, she can barely manage to stand but Sonja’s there supporting her, holding her so she doesn’t fall. She’s barely conscious as Sonja places the harsh cut exactly along the angry red lines that have gone before it, and she screws her face up in agony. A few stinging tears squeeze their way out of her and drop on the floor.

“Remember, another sound and it’s six more of the best,” says Sonja, and Emma shudders at the unspoken warning. _Don’t disrespect me again_.

Finally she’s able to speak.

“Five.”

Relief surges through her body. She’s done it. She feels light-headed and proud, almost floaty with happiness.

 _Now if only Sonja can forgive her_.

There’s a brief moment of anxious silence before she feels Sonja’s hands on her hips, starting the soft, cooling, loving touches that take all the pain away. She’s almost swooning as Sonja helps carry her to the bed for aftercare. This is Emma’s favourite part, feeling Sonja take care of her as gently as a nurse, soothing her injuries, applying ointment and putting a cooling cloth on her forehead. Under Sonja’s ministrations she starts to sigh with happiness.

Sonja starts to kiss tenderly along the red line of the cane marking Emma’s ass, her red lips tracing the red lines left there by the cane, softening their harshness with her tongue, letting the wetness spread, be cooled by the air and take the pain away. Emma stops shaking after a while and Sonja lies down next to her and just holds her.

“Are you okay, baby girl?” breathes Sonja in her ear and Emma nods yes. She takes one of her hands and lies it on her stomach. Sonja doesn’t pull away, and this makes Emma bolder.

“Sonja, do you think you’ll ever get over Even?” asks Emma softly.

She knows it’s too soon to ask, probably too soon _ever_ to ask, but she needs to _know_ , she needs to know if there’s _something_ in what they have, or whether she’s just a stopgap for whatever feelings Sonja needs to work out right now. Because since they’ve started – whatever this is – it feels like Isak’s never mattered to her again. If she has Sonja – well, that’s all she needs.

Her mistress sighs, and Emma doesn’t need to look at her face to see the pain that’s written there. “I don’t know, baby girl. I just don’t know.”

Emma’s heart clenches, and she’d do anything, give anything to take Sonja’s hurt away, she’d submit to the harshest punishment ever if it could stop Sonja’s pain.

“Same time next week?” she asks, hardly daring.

Sonja kisses her on her temple and turns away.

“Yes baby girl. Same time next week.”

 

**Onsdag 06.45**

Vilde wakes up in bed but Eva has gone.

She knows the feeling. She’s had it before, with William, this knowing that the other person isn’t into you, doesn’t want you, wants someone else entirely, but you’re there so you’ll do. It’s a horrible, crushing pain that makes Vilde curl up onto her side and push her face into the pillow.

But the pillow smells of Eva and it makes her feel even worse.

Part of her mind feels guilty about Magnus, but it’s the kind of guilt that you feel when you forget to water someone’s plants, or feed their cat for a night when they’re away. He’s left eleven missed calls on her phone and a few texts, but she can’t bring herself to look at them or answer.

Magnus is a problem for another day.

And okay, it was only a kiss she’d shared with Eva, alright a few kisses, but it had been soft and beautiful and she’d wanted more, but Eva hadn’t so Vilde had respected that; they’d talked about Noora for hours and Vilde had deserved something for all that she’d been hearing about how beautiful and great and amazing and sexy and hot Noora was – but Eva hadn’t let Vilde touch her, at least not properly, nothing under the clothes although Vilde had itched to let her hands wander under Eva’s shirt and under her bra. She’d let Vilde nuzzle at her tits until she felt Eva’s nipples hardening under her clothes but as soon as Vilde had tried to start unbuttoning her Eva had gently pushed her away, saying she didn’t want to ruin things like she had with Noora.

Ruin things?

Yes, Eva had said, she’d ruined things with Noora, and Vilde had nodded sympathetically. Yet she hadn’t explained exactly _why_ she’d broken up with Noora.

 _Had_ she broken up with Noora? Noora hadn’t texted or called or anything.

And Vilde isn’t a lesbian or anything, but everyone will think she is, but she really really isn’t a lesbian, she’s bi-curious if _anything_ , but -

It’s all very confusing.

Vilde is feeling drowsy from lack of sleep and horny from the all the kissing earlier. She rocks her hips against her pillow, imagining she’s with Eva, feeling herself harden with excitement, imagining next time where she would touch Eva, imagining how Eva will smell and taste on the tip of her tongue; how she’ll wrap her hips around Vilde, how her nipples will feel in the palm of her hand. The fantasy is so vivid, with the recent memory and scent of Eva still in the room, that Vilde’s pretty far gone when she shoves her hand in her pants. A few swift flicks with her finger is enough to bring her off as hard and as fast as she can. She rides the sensation to its ultimate climax including a few aftershocks, feeling the exhilaration of coming wash through her like a wave, leaving a brimming tenderness in its wake.

_Eva had come to her. Out of everyone, Eva had chosen to come to her for help. She had broken up with Noora, and she’d chosen Vilde._

She lets herself dream for a few joyous minutes, until reality asserts itself once again.

Eva doesn’t want her.

_Not in that way._

The phone is buzzing like an angry fly. It’s Magnus, again.

_Maybe she should tell him._

_No. She isn’t a lesbian._

Vilde sighs, puts it on silent, lies down and covers her head with her pillow.

 

**Torsdag 19.45**

Eva’s at a barbecue, she’s not sure whose, but it’s someone from her geography course – at least she thinks it is – she’s been drinking for some time now and she’s lost track of how many beers she’s had, but one more will probably make her feel even better.

And better means not thinking about Noora, not checking her phone to see if Noora’s called, not even knowing what Noora is doing right now.

She’s weaving her way through the garden looking for the kitchen when she bumps into Chris emerging from the back door. He’s looking a bit preoccupied but when he sees her he waves and saunters towards her as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

The next thing she remembers is that they’re sitting down in the grass with fresh beers. Chris is relaxed, and familiar in that slightly grubby way he has, and he’s looking at her with half-closed eyes and that teasing smile on his face.

“What?” says Eva, irritated, as Chris leans back on his elbows.

“So how’s it going with Noora?” asks Chris, looking rather too pleased with himself for Eva’s liking.

“Ugh,” Eva can’t look him in the eye, but that might be because everything’s swirling around them suddenly.  “We, uh – we’re taking a break.”

“A break?” If Chris was a dog, his ears would’ve pricked up.

“Yeah, a break,” says Eva, irritated. “So what?”

“Oh, nothing,” says Chris cheerfully, and the look on his face makes her even more annoyed. She pushes at his shoulder petulantly. “What the fuck, Chris?”

And then she’s not quite sure how, but she leans forward, partly to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, and partly because she just wants to, and okay she might have fallen just a little bit - but the next moment there they are, kissing, and it’s all familiar and beautiful and comforting and a little bit weird all at once. And after a few minutes of kissing, they find themselves turning towards each other, hands roaming all over each other’s bodies, and it’s funny how easily they pass that boundary and start to moan and push themselves against each other.

“Missed dick much?” grins Chris in her ear, rubbing himself against her thigh. Eva’s probably thirsty for cock right now, he thinks.

“Not really. I’ve got one of my own,” returns Eva, taking his hand and putting it underneath her jeans. He can feel something there, something hard –

Chris’s eyes spring open.

_Wait, what?_

 

**Søndag 14.41**

Chris has never gotten dick from a girl before but it’s certainly something that he could get used to. Eva’s not as skilled as Eskild – she doesn’t have his rhythm or his stamina – but she’s got something else, that raw excitement, that _lust_ that he can feel pouring off her like the powerful smell of sweat which is strangely addictive.

She’s got him on his knees while she’s working his dick with one hand, the other grabbing at his hair to hold him still as she penetrates him. Chris groans involuntarily and ducks his head to the floor as she bottoms out; he hasn’t had anyone this big inside him before but he’s finding it sharply exciting; her dick is hard but also inflexible, it’s not as easy to bend or change position but there’s something quite subby about the way it makes him feel owned, brutalised and filled up.

His breathing quickens as he’s pumped again and again, face down mashed against the carpet, it’s a bit uncomfortable despite all the lube they’ve splashed around, but he’s swollen and excited and before he can hold back Eva surges against his prostate and he ends up coming fast and furious, spattering his own thighs in the process. He wonders briefly how she’s actually going to be able to come in this position, but his questions are answered seconds later when she grinds and shudders against him, then all of a sudden goes limp.

“Are you dead?” whispers Chris with a wicked smile.

Eva giggles. “I certainly am,” she whispers back. “Did you come?”

“Did I come?” Chris yelps. “You mean you didn’t notice? Pull out now, I don’t wanna get sore.”

 

**Mandag 08.08**

Magnus is waiting outside her flat when Vilde finally gets up the energy to go back to class. He looks like he’s been there a while – his fresh face is unusually tired and worn out, he’s got bags under his eyes and his hair is limp. Vilde jumps when she sees him, but then realises the pointlessness in ghosting him: she can’t avoid him forever.

“Hey,” she says brightly, but she can’t look him in the eye.

“I know you had someone round last Friday,” says Magnus finally. He doesn’t see the point in beating around the bush.

Vilde’s eyes widen, but Magnus hurries on. “Listen, I think you’re amazing, Vilde. I think you’re beautiful and hot and sexy and kind and wonderful –”

With all of the guilt whirling around in her brain Vilde can’t help but flinch: she can’t bear to hear herself praised like this. She puts up a hand to stop him, but Magnus is way ahead of her.

“But listen – for all I think you’re amazing, I don’t want to be your second choice.”

Vilde’s head snaps up and she stares at him. “You’re not my second choice!”

“Well I’m definitely not your first one,” says Magnus sadly. “Listen, Vilde, I know I’m a loser, I know I’m a virgin, maybe that’s not what you’re after –”

“You’re not a loser!” protests Vilde, shocked. Magnus smiles. “It’s OK, Vilde. I know I come way down on your list, after William, even after Eva – look, don’t try to deny it – I know you kissed Eva before, and I saw you dancing at the party for her and Noora, it’s fine if you’re a lesbian –”

“I’m not a lesbian!” protests Vilde automatically.

“OK, not a lesbian, but you’re definitely bisexual,” says Magnus. “It’s OK. I’m bi too. Or pan, I dunno. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, though everyone tries to make you feel like it’s wrong, or you definitely have to be one way or the other.”

Vilde is thrown. This level of thought was something she really hadn’t expected from Magnus. “Really? Have you ever been with a bloke?”

Magnus shakes his head and his cheeks redden. “You don’t need to have tried it to _know_. And maybe I’ll never try it, but it doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t valid.”

Despite her confusion, Vilde is intrigued at the look in Magnus’s eyes. He’s speaking like someone much older than his usual crazy teenage self. “But who is it? Who do you fancy?”

“Nobody you know,” lies Magnus. “It’s just this one guy, but he’s spoken for, so it’ll never happen. And maybe I’ll only ever be bi for him, in the same way that you’ll only ever be bi for Eva –”

“I’m _not_ bi for Eva!”

“Yes you are, Vilde,” says Magnus wearily, getting up and flicking his chewing gum away. “Look, maybe you’ll end up with Eva and maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll end up with me, and maybe you won’t. But stop that shit trying to deny your sexuality, okay? There’s enough people out there – both gay and straight – trying to erase us, without us erasing ourselves.”

 

**Tirsdag 16.40**

Chris is fucking Eva now, his ass is still feeling raw from the pounding she gave him yesterday so he’s giving her a taste of her own medicine. She’s gasping below him but he’s merciless, she shouldn’t dish it out if she can’t take it, he’s alternating between her pussy and her ass to make sure that she takes every inch of him in every bit of her, watching her flushed face in fascination. He’s about to come, and the way she’s shuddering makes him think that she’s pretty close too, when all of a sudden her face darkens to scarlet red and she begins to cry.

He grins to himself as he thrusts away savagely. _The old Christoffer magic_ , he thinks smugly. _Gets them every time._

The next moment he realises that it’s not _good_ crying.

He pulls out immediately. “Shit, are you OK? Am I hurting you?”

Eva shakes her head, eyes screwed up but pouring tears. “No! No, I’m fine!”

“Uhhh …” says Chris, not quite knowing what to say. “You don’t look fine.”

Eva scrabbles up the bed and sits cross-legged, burying her head in her hands. “I can’t. Sorry. It’s all too much.”

“Ummm ….” says Chris, feeling his erection starting to cave, and wondering if it would be too tactless to covertly beat himself off without her noticing. “Is it about Noora?”

Eva nods wordlessly, tears leaking from her eyes. “I miss her so much, Chris. I can’t help it.”

“What happened, exactly?” asks Chris, although he doesn’t _really_ want to know, he’s just being fucking _polite_ , and oh God there goes his boner for real, you see this is the _problem_ with being with someone, you get sucked in to all the crap and emotions and stuff which is a real turn-off, not like with Eskild, when –

_Eskild!_

He suddenly realises that Eskild hasn’t texted him back, not for days now. He grabs his phone and looks at it. Eskild hasn’t replied to last week’s text, nor his Sunday night meme.

_That’s weird._

Eva is speaking, throwing her hands around expressively and weeping, and Chris locks back into it, nodding sympathetically although he’s not actually listening to a word she’s saying.

_Where the fuck is Eskild?_

 

**Onsdag 15.20**

Even loves being inside Isak, loves it like _nothing_ else he’s ever experienced, he loves Isak’s tightness and warmth around his dick whilst hearing Isak’s little gasps in his ear and his arms clinging around his neck, making him want to both protect him and brutalise him at the same time. He loves feeling so close to his boyfriend that it feels like they’re almost the same person. His favourite position’s cross-legged on the bed with Isak rocking on him, face buried in his shoulder, pulling on his hair.

They dispensed with condoms a few weeks ago and since then they’ve not been able to stop themselves, there’s nothing like the bare contact of skin on skin, the easy slip-and-slide of carefree lubed-up fucking, and with so much constant sex Even’s gotten Isak so soft and ready prepping doesn’t take long. He loves to squeeze and pinch Isak’s ass with his hands as they fuck, controlling Isak’s slender hips with his large hands, pulling him up and pushing him down down long and low while he thrusts up inside him, making Isak moan and shudder with the words Even loves to hear; _God you’re so big, you’re so big_ –

“I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Even jumps and jerks back to reality, realising his eyes are glazed and his mouth’s hanging open. He’s standing in the newsagent queue, so lost in what he wants to do to Isak tonight that he hasn’t even realised it’s his turn.

He’s also got one hell of a hard-on.

“Sorry – I, uh, can I get some chocolates please.” Even points out the particular brand on the shelf for the assistant to serve him. “And do you have flowers? And a birthday card?”

The assistant dimples as she picks out a small bunch of carnations from the water barrel. “I hope your girlfriend realises that she’s a very lucky lady?”

Even gives her one of his brightest smiles. “My boyfriend certainly does,” he responds, enjoying her momentary confusion, before stepping aside and cannoning into someone who’s just walked into the shop.

His heart instantly sinks, and with it his Isak-centred boner.

_Sonja._

Sonja eyes the flowers and chocolate that he’s carrying bitterly. “Oh that’s nice. Playing happy families with Isak, are we?”

Even raises his chin defensively. “Yes, we’re very happy, thank you Sonja.” He’s about to move away swiftly when he sees, behind the angry look she’s shooting him, the pain and the sadness, the same as he had in the club a couple of weeks ago.

He’s a _bad_ person.

Sonja just looks at him. “If we’re going to see each other around this much, I guess we should talk.”

Even sighs. He doesn’t want to, but they can’t avoid it forever, he supposes.

“I’m sorry, Sonja,” he says as soon as they’re out of the shop and sitting on a nearby bench. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just want you to know that you’re terrific. You’re amazing. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

Sonja nods, looking at the pavement, another tear squeezing its way through her downcast eyes and coursing down her cheek. Even wonders if he should wipe it away but he dismisses that as inappropriate. “Look, Sonja, you have to get over me. We had a great time, we had our day, it’s not your fault, but it’s over now.”

"I just ... thought we were this perfect couple," says Sonja sadly, and Even sighs. "Look, Sonja, we weren't perfect. I was undiagnosed and you were looking through my phone and pretty much stalking my Facebook. Then I cheated on you and then you told my parents I should be sectioned ... we were many things but perfect wasn't one of them!"

“I still didn't want it to be over,” says Sonja softly, and Even’s soft heart feels doubly guilty.

“I’m sorry that I have someone and you don’t, but there’s so many people out there who would die to date a beautiful, sexy and intelligent girl like you. Are you – are you seeing anyone?” he asks gently.

Sonja pauses, a little too long and pointedly for the answer to be no, and Even feels suddenly worried. “You’re not – not dating anyone from the Bakka crew are you?”

He can’t bring himself to say the name _Mikael._

Sonja shakes her head, and when she finally speaks, Even’s so relieved that he doesn’t think he can have heard right.

“Emma? _Really_?”

“Stop laughing!” snaps Sonja and Even leans back. “I’m sorry! I’m not laughing at you – I’m just laughing because – this is too perfect!”

“Perfect?” scolds Sonja. “Why perfect?”

Even’s quick mind is whirling. Sonja and Emma – _wow that_ is something he would kill to see _._ “Well because – I have to say, Sonja, Emma’s _really_ hot, and super nice, and you guys got on so well at the – well never mind – ” he says hurriedly because he doesn’t want to bring up _that_ pregame – “I mean, I knew you liked each other but I never realised how much.”

Sonja lights a cigarette and blows out a stream of smoke. “I just don’t know if it will work out, that’s all.”

Even looks at her. “Well, you won’t if you don’t give it a chance. But you have to make a choice, whether to go for it or not. It can be scary when you feel something for someone, especially if –” he searches for the right words, “especially if you haven’t had a relationship like that before. The most important thing is, does she make you happy?”

Sonja shrugs. “Yes. Sometimes. I don’t know.”

Even takes the cigarette from her and takes a drag before handing it back.

“You have to let yourself be happy again, Sonja. There’s no way it will work with Emma if you don’t let it.”

 

**Torsdag 21.00**

Chris is pretty sure that Eskild’s just having some trouble with his phone, so after Eva’s left the next morning he cleans himself up and makes his way over to the Kollectivet. He rings the buzzer, his heart doing a little excited dance at the thought of Eskild. When Eskild opens up, Chris steps towards him, smiling and face shining, but Eskild’s eyes are bleak, colourless, staring right back at him as if he doesn’t recognise who he is.

“What’s wrong?” asks Chris, a little nervously.

But Eskild looks so angry he can barely speak.

“Eva texted Noora. So you’re screwing now are you?”

Chris is nonplussed. “Erm, well yeah,” he says a little defensively. “Like, I didn’t think you’d care? I don’t know who you go with half the time. We don’t have rules, do we?”

Eskild is white with fury. “I don’t know who you go with half the time either, Christoffer, but you’re mistaken when you say we don’t have rules. We have rules of common human decency. We have rules that say YOU DON’T FUCK WITH YOUR FRIENDS.”

He is so angry that Chris takes a step back in confusion. “But I don’t understand – you know I always liked Eva, right?”

“I’m not talking about Eva! I’m talking about Noora!” shouts Eskild. “Noora’s my friend, Chris, okay my rather beautiful and fucked-up friend – but she’s in love with Eva, she misses her desperately, and you’re fucking that all up! I don’t care if you like Eva or not – BACK THE FUCK OFF!”

Chris looks at him, startled. Eskild’s face is pale and he looks as if he is about to cry. “I’m – I’m sorry,” he says lamely.

“It’s not good enough to be sorry,” snaps Eskild. “You and me – we’re over, Chris.”

Chris feels as if all the air had been sucked out of his stomach. “You don’t mean that – you don’t, please, Eskild.”

Eskild looks at him, his eyes red. “I do mean it, baby bi. You and me – it’s not going to work.”

“But it is working!” protests Chris, frightened. “Please – oh Eskild! Don’t do this!”

He’s whining now – he knows it – half his mind is embarrassed as fuck at his own neediness while the other half is screaming in fear. _Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, no!_ “We’re so good together, we just work, please don’t throw this away!” _Oh God, so many clichés._ “I didn’t realise – I don’t need to be with Eva – please can we talk about this, please Eskild please!”

But Eskild is implacable. “I just can’t do this anymore, baby bi. Sorry. It was fun while it lasted.”

“You all right?” says a voice from the corridor, and to Chris’s horror, there’s a guy, a cute, tall mixed-race guy with a small trimmed goatee and glasses like a student, probably _is_ a student from Eskild’s university, and wearing Eskild’s Japanese dressing gown, and _oh shit no_ coming up behind Eskild and putting an arm around him.

It feels like a punch to the stomach. Of _course_ Chris knows Eskild sees other guys, that’s all part of their unspoken arrangement, and the thought in theory doesn’t trouble him, but _seeing_ it is another matter. Seeing someone else _touching_ Eskild makes him wants to shout and throw hands. 

Part of him wants to keel over and vomit on the new guy’s feet.

The other part of him _never_ wants Eskild to know how bad he’s feeling.

“Uh, sorry to have disturbed you,” he stammers finally. “I’ll see you around.”

Eskild definitely looks like he’s going to cry now, he’s bearing his head up proudly but his eyes are full of tears. Chris can’t bear it any more so he turns away and stumbles down the steps.

“Who was that?” the guy asks Eskild, bewildered.

“Oh just some bi guy I used to play around with,” said Eskild acidly, and Chris hears the door close behind them with a slam.  

He stumbles back home, face red and aching and eyes full of water.

_Just some bi guy_

_That I used to –_

Fuck you, Eskild

He hates crying, so he just about makes it into the shower before he collapses, and then he can pretend that the tears running down his face are just from the heat of the water and aren't anything to do with - 

 

_**TO BE CONTINUED** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a lowkey weird time to post but i'm all out all day and who knows some people might appreciate something to read with their coffee in the morning askfdksfsdkfhsd


	4. Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Isak's birthday and Even's got plans, Magnus and Vilde have a choice to make. Sonja and Emma take a step in the dark, and Noora is avoiding Eva. So, where does that leave P-Chris and Eskild?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my lovelies, this started off as a lil' one-shot when my bi ass saw ughasif's tweet, and suddenly blossomed into a +25K fic, thanks to all YOUR lovely feedback and exciting prompts! There's so little bi canon out there that we're all pretty starved of good storylines, and I'm truly overwhelmed how much this has touched people. It's been super fun to write and yeah - although this is technically the "finale" it could serve as a starting point to all sorts of crackships! watch this space!
> 
> If you've enjoyed this, check out my other fics - WW2 spy fic The Spy Who Loved Isak Valtersen or the mystery Doppelganger also in Skam fandom further down the page - I've had sooo much coursework this month that I haven't updated as regularly but I've got a bit of time now!
> 
> THANK YOU ALL AGAIN AND LOVE YOU ALL!

**Mandag 11.30**

Even’s been up since early morning, he’s only really gotten a few hours sleep but he’s feeling fresh as a daisy. Isak is still dead asleep from the two orgasms that Even gave him at two am and eight am respectively and Even knows that he’ll be chancing his luck if he wakes him up again. He runs around the living room like a dervish for a while, cleaning up and putting their dirty clothes flung around into the wash. He jogs down to the local store, buys some coffee and croissants and a fresh bunch of flowers, and runs back, freejumping a little over the backs of benches and along the odd wall. Isak still isn’t up, so he cleans the bath and shower, and jots down a few ideas for a film he’s storyboarding. After a while it’s almost eleven thirty and he’s feeling lonely again, so he jumps back into the bedroom and covers Isak’s curly head with kisses.

“Ugh,” says Isak sitting up groggily in bed. “What time is it?”

“Covfefe, gorgeous, and a card,” says Even, presenting him with Isak’s favourite latte with ginger syrup plus an extra shot of espresso, and his birthday card. Isak’s naked and looking like some Greek god emerging from the sea of duvet, and Even can’t resist stretching himself out on the bed next to him and kissing his stomach. He _loves_ Isak’s stomach, his boyfriend has been working out a lot since he got in the soccer team and Even’s totally benefited from Isak’s new set of abs. But there remains a baby softness to his body when he’s still all curled up and bewildered from sleep, and right now Even’s finding it hard to control himself, nuzzling at his stomach and biting playfully at his hips.

“Wow,” mutters Isak thickly, opening the card and smiling at the impassioned message Even has scribbled inside. “Thank you, but you know it’s not my birthday til the weekend, Evi?”

“Okay, I _know_ , but it’s your birthday week, so I got you lots of birthday cards, six of them, one for every day this week. Look, there’s a voucher inside.”

Isak peers at it. “Oh is that what it is? Sorry, I can’t see a fucking thing without my contacts in. What does it say?”

“It’s a series of vouchers for any sex act you want, to be redeemed at any point you want,” says Even, kissing downwards teasingly. “And the first one starts now.”

But Isak just clasps his small fingers around his cardboard coffee cup, squinting down at him with a funny look on his face. “Babe, did you sleep OK last night?”

Even nods, maybe a little too enthusiastically, probing his tongue into Isak’s belly-button. “Yep. Brilliant.”

“Okaaaay,” says Isak, unconvinced, and Even sees him looking at him uneasily, sits up and grabs his free hand in both of his. “Really, baby, it’s OK. I’d tell you if I thought I was slipping.”

His boyfriend looks at him searchingly. “Really?”

Even kisses him hard. If there’s anything that Isak really mustn’t worry about right now, it’s Even. Not during _one minute_ of his entire birthday week. “Really, really, _really_.”

“I love you,” gasps Isak finally, a moment later. “No, use your hand instead, yeah, that’s right, and keep jerking me off while you fuck me with your tongue.”

“You got it, baby,” says Even, grinning to himself, his voice muffled from Isak’s ass in his mouth. He _loves_ it when Isak is bossy like this.

And there’s a _hell_ of a lot of sex vouchers that have to be redeemed.

Isak’s birthday week is going to be _perfect._

 

**Tirsdag, 20.25**

Emma’s sitting moping in the bath when her phone buzzes. She’s almost about to ignore it when she sees Sonja’s number flashing on the screen and sits bolt upright. It’s not their regular discipline night, so that must mean – shit, she doesn’t know _what_ on earth it _does_ mean.

“Hello?” she gasps, grappling with the phone with wet hands and trying desperately not to drop it in the bath. With a feeling of unreality she hears Sonja’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hi, er, Emma?”

Emma blossoms with happiness at the sound of Sonja’s voice saying her name. “Ah! Yes! Hello?”

Sonja sounds hesitant, as if unsure how Emma will react. “I wondered – if – if you’re not too busy – you might want to go to a party this weekend?”

Emma’s face flushes and she knows that Sonja can probably hear the smile in her voice.

“This weekend? I’d love to.”

 

**Onsdag, 18.50**

Eva stands in front of the mirror and takes a deep breath of satisfaction. She actually looks pretty good.

She’s wearing jeans, a white T shirt and a check shirt open over the top, and her dick is underneath her jeans in a harness, angled to the side so that there’s a bulge there, not particularly noticeable unless you were looking for it, but enough to see if you were. And it’s less about the look than how it _feels_ , Eva feels good – no, _great_ –  when she packs, she feels more herself, more confident, more in tune with her own body. When she moves she can feel the hard weight over her clit and it makes her feel horny and powerful in equal measure. She shifts and adjusts a bit until it’s more comfortable.

Ah, right, _that’s_ why guys have to do this so much.

“It looks good,” says Vilde from behind her where she’s sitting on the bed and Eva smiles. She’s so lucky to have a friend like Vilde. Vilde might be a bit conservative and a bit uptight but you can always count on her to give support where it’s needed – like support when you want to get back with your ex-girlfriend while you’re packing your cock which she doesn’t love as much as you do.

But no matter how good a friend is, you can’t dick them about like Eva has.

“Uh, listen, Vilde,” she begins, sitting on the bed, but Vilde holds up a hand. “It’s OK. I know, Eva. You don’t have to say it.”

Eva sighs. “No, I want to. I want to say sorry. I shouldn’t have – messed you around last week. I know – you’d arranged stuff with Magnus, and I crashed it. I shouldn’t have led you on. I was wilding out badly after all that stuff with Noora. I don’t know where my head was. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” says Vilde, she doesn’t _really_ mean it, but at least Eva’s being honest with her now and there isn’t any more room for confusion. Indeed, Eva hasn’t stopped rattling on about Noora since she arrived, so to quote Magnus, Vilde’s not Eva’s first choice, so she’s just going to have to take this one on the chin and chalk it up to experience. “Did you text her?”

“I did,” Eva glances at her phone, “but no reply. I guess she’s still pretty angry with me.”

"Are you ..." Vilde can hardly get the words out. "Going to tell her? About what happened with us?"

Eva hesitates. "I don't think so," she says honestly. "I don't know what purpose that'll serve. It's not going to happen again, and it'll be upsetting her for no reason. I told her about Chris to hurt her, and I don't want to hurt her again. You know?"

Vilde smiles bravely. “And what about Chris?” 

Eva shrugs. “Chris is Chris. He’s a bi fuckboy at the end of the day. You don’t want to take him home to meet your mother, let’s just say. He’s not worth letting Noora go for.”

Vilde sighs inwardly. She doesn’t think she can take _anyone_ home to meet her mother ever, even Magnus.

 _Magnus._ She wonders if she should text him, but decides against it. He was right. Vilde needs to decide what she really wants, not just use him as a back-up option. No matter how confused she’s been about her sexuality, that doesn’t excuse her being a dick about it. She’s had direct personal experience of being second choice with Eva, and it’s not fun at all.

“So does this mean that you’re a transgender then?” asks Vilde earnestly, and Eva grins. “Just say trans, Vilde, keep up.”

“Sorry,” says Vilde, flustered. “So do you think you’re trans, then? Do you want to be a boy?”

Eva considers. “No, I don’t think so. I think I just like having a dick and fucking girls,” she says, rather enjoying Vilde’s pink cheeks. “Some trans people like to pack because it’s in line with their body image, but I’m cis, I’m happy being a girl. But having a dick is fucking awesome. You should try it, Vilde.”

Vilde grins back, patting the front of her pants. “I’m sure it is. But with what I got here, I can get all the dicks I want, Eva.”

 

**Torsdag, 22.15**

Eskild lies in bed, staring at the ceiling. He’s feeling absolutely wiped out.

Noora stirs and shifts beside him, rolling on her side to look at him. They’re both red eyed and sniffling, they’ve cried together for the longest time since Noora got Eva’s text about Chris last week, and then again for days since Eskild sent Chris away. Crying together can feel more intimate than sex, they’ve told each other their deepest secrets, embraced each other at their lowest points, and confessed their deepest problems. The one consolation for both of them, having lost both their lovers, they’ve reconnected as best friends.

“You didn’t need to do that for me,” Noora says for the umpteenth time. “I know how much you like him.”

Eskild just nods, he doesn’t want to think about the look on Chris’s face as he left, he doesn’t want to think about _anything_ right now.

“You should call him,” says Noora again, but Eskild shakes his head, he can’t, he _can’t_ let her down like that, there’s no way he can allow Chris to fuck up Noora and Eva’s happiness.

 _Fucking Chris_ , fucking _bisexuals_ , they always, _always_ screw things up in the end.

Then why does he miss him so desperately?

He bites his lip as he thinks of his beautiful, bi boy, long dark eyelashes, teeth flashing in a smile, and hair flopping onto his face as he sat on his lap doing his makeup _that night_ , that happy night before everything went wrong.

“Do you want to cry some more?” asks Noora, and Eskild just turns into her shoulder and feels the tears rise up again.

 

**Lordag, 15.15**

Even’s in full-on party mode, hanging decorations up over the patio with a huge banner saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY ISAK!!! Their third-floor flat is too tiny to squeeze everybody they know in, but they’ve also got the use of the shared garden behind, so they’ve arranged with the other residents to hold a small party there. Even’s blown their budget on a pile of cheap burgers and a barbecue set for the patio and chairs, and there’s a little wooded area right at the bottom of the garden where he’s putting nightlights so guests can sit and hang out. He’s talking quite a lot, quite a _lot_ actually, and when he tells Isak the punchline of a joke before the joke itself, he sees Isak looking at him a little worried.

“It’s OK, honey!” he protests, but Isak’s not falling for that again. “On Monday, babe, I think we could take you to adjust your meds again.”

Even protests – _he’s just excited! he’s allowed to be excited! it’s Isak’s party!_ – but Isak leans over and puts his arms around him, resting his forehead against Even’s. “I’m not controlling you, babe. I just think we need to get them looked at. It’s your choice of course, but I’m your boyfriend and it’s my job to tell you that I think it’s time.”

Even melts immediately. Isak is so _amazing_. So sweet and considerate and gorgeous and caring, not at all like Sonja, who always scolded and bossed him whenever he got too happy –

 _Oh, hang on_ , Sonja! yeah, there’s actually something he hasn’t told Isak yet.

“I hope you don’t mind, I invited Sonja and Emma to your birthday tonight,” he says with a delighted smile. Actually now he thinks about it, it’s a totally brilliant idea, it would be _great_ to see them, it’s been too long really, wow maybe they could go out on pansexual double-dates, hell maybe they could write an article on the story of how they all met, or go on a talk-show about pansexual prejudice or something and – 

But Isak has stepped back, appalled and looking at him like he’s lost his fucking _mind._

“Sonja and Emma? On my _birthday_? What the _fuck_ , Even?!?!”

“Wait, wait!” cries Even, suddenly realising, “sorry there’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

 

**19.00**

Chris sits at home, nursing another beer, anger and shame consuming him. Tears leak uncontrollably from his eyes. Eva’s texted him a few times but he’s ignoring her. He’s been looking at Eskild’s Instagram for the past hour and he really needs to stop now because he’s going to cry again and Chris _hates_ crying. He hates relationships, hates emotions, hates – _this._

How did it all get so fucking complicated?

_Just some bi guy I used to play around with._

_Fuck_ Eskild. Just – _fuck_ him.

A reminder flashes up on his screen. Isak’s birthday party tonight. He groans. He doesn’t really feel like it, but life goes on, he supposes. Even so, he can’t be arsed to do his hair or change his clothes which isn’t like him at all. Instead he drains his beer can, throws it across the room and makes for the door.

 

**19.45**

“Well this isn’t awkward at all!” says Isak with a charming smile as he opens the door to Sonja and Emma.

Sonja just laughs and kisses him and Even on the cheek, she’s confident like that, but Emma’s feeling lowkey nervous now, she’s holding Sonja’s hand and trying to look cool and relaxed, though ever since Sonja told her where they were going she’s been apprehensive about seeing Isak again. But strangely now they’ve arrived it’s really okay, Isak’s wearing a green shirt that makes him look happy and holiday-ish, and when they hug each other hello it isn’t uncomfortable for a second. And Sonja’s looking like a dream in tight black dress and heels which is at least partially designed to show Even exactly how much she’s over him, but that’s absolutely fine with Emma because she gets to have Sonja’s ass in her lap when they sit down on the patio with drinks because there aren’t enough chairs.  

Even’s a bit on another planet to be fair, he’s wearing a Honolulu flower garland over a blue shirt and a gold paper crown on his head and he’s a bit too bright, a bit too much, a bit too scattered when he speaks and sometimes he’s so excited in trying to tell a story that he doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. He kicks up the music a few notches and starts to dance in his wild, ungainly fashion as some more guests arrive and Emma sees Sonja shoot a sharp look at him and then at Isak, but Isak just catches her eye and nods reassuringly back.

Emma can hear Isak’s meaning as clear as words. _It’s OK. I’m on it._

 

**20.30**

Noora sticks her head round the door just as Eskild is trying and failing for the umpteenth time not to check Chris’s Facebook status. He flicks the page off quickly. She’s wearing a red patterned dress and black boots and she’s got her trademark war-paint red lipstick back on. He isn’t sure, but he thinks she’s wearing some long black false eyelashes that make her blue eyes absolutely _pop._

“Wow darling you look amazing,” he says, sitting upright in bed. “Any girl that would turn you down is a fucking fool, and this is my gay ass speaking.”

Noora smiles timidly. “I thought about not showing up, but life’s too short to skulk around. Do you still want to go?”

Eskild sighs. He doesn’t really feel like it, but what are friends for. He knows that Noora will need his support tonight if Eva’s going to be there. And if Chris is there with her, well – he’ll have to work that one out if it happens. He fishes around in his closet for a silver tank top, black cycle shorts and fish-net tights – at the very worst he can have some fun utterly horrifying Isak, he reckons – and to complete his ensemble drags out a pair of rainbow painted wooden clogs.

“OK. Lead on, Macduff.”

 

**21.21**

Even’s planned this moment for so long – for _so long_ – and he knows he shouldn’t really be doing it while he’s high, but he’s feeling too _good_ not to, and Isak’s looking like an absolute snack in his new shirt and it’s Isak’s fucking birthday for fuck’s sake, and there isn’t really any reason why he can’t do what he likes in his own – well shared – back garden, so laughingly kidnapping his own boyfriend for a bit of nookie at the bottom of the garden is just what you _do_ on his birthday, isn’t it?

“Marry me,” he mutters into Isak’s neck, just as he’s got him pressed up a tree with Isak’s dick in his hand.

“What?” gasps Isak, pulling his face away.

Even kneels down in front of him – might as well do it right, he thinks – only to realise that he can’t find the ring that he’s been carrying around with him all day, but small details aren’t going to hold him back now. “Marry me,” he repeats.

Isak squeaks and pokes him in the face playfully. “We’ll discuss this after Monday. You’re totally out of it right now.”

“No. I’m serious,” Even plays with Isak’s cock, loving the feeling of it swelling in his palm and helping it along with his mouth. “I know I’m a bit up right now, but I think the same when I’m down and I think the same when I’m level. I got you a ring but I can’t remember where I put it, I hid it so you wouldn’t find it, but we don’t need a ring if you say yes. If you say no I’ll ask again when I’m level and I’ll ask again when I’m depressed and I’ll keep asking until you say yes because I love you, Isak Valtersen, I love you more than anything in the world!”

Isak bursts out laughing. “I always thought that you shouldn’t make serious decisions from a horizontal position,” and Even swells with joy at the sound. He loves it when his boyfriend is happy, and starts to laughingly pull him down onto the grass. “Well you’re not exactly horizontal but we can fix that if you want.”

With an effort, Isak drags Even’s lips away from his cock and holds his face in both his hands. “Yes! Yes! Okay! We’ll get married, but first you’ll go to the doctors on Monday. Agreed?”

Even’s heart leaps with bliss and pride, he’ll do anything for Isak, he’ll take a million bottles of meds for his sake, he’ll rattle all day if he has to, and he sits up on his heels, grabbing Isak’s cock and shouting into it like a microphone.

“He said yes! Oh my God! We’re getting married!”

“Shut up and blow me,” Isak giggles, pushing Even’s head back down. “If that’s the only way to keep you quiet.”

 

**21.30**

Magnus stands electrified in the shadow of a tree, watching Even blow Isak.

Even’s got such beautiful lips, shit, such full, soft, beautiful lips, and oh God, watching him take a whole cock deep into his beautiful mouth with such practised ease is making Magnus feel dizzy as hell with desire. Okay, he feels a bit weird about the cock in question belonging to his mate, but he’s mentally blurring Isak out so it’s just Even he’s watching, looking at his tall body reared up from the ground, imagining Even’s lips running over his own dick, swallowing him down just like that, holding his hips prisoner just like that –

And now Even’s just proposed to Isak in the middle of a blowjob, which is _seriously fucking extra_ even for Even.

Fuck, these two are endgame. You can’t get more perfect than this, he reasons to himself sadly. They’ve got it all going on – they’ve found each other, moved in together, and now they’re getting fucking _married_. Perfect, that’s what they are, and he’s a fool to have ever entertained _any_ thoughts of Even. It’s never gonna happen, and even if it did, it would be a _terrible_ idea.

It’s just a crush, just a tiny, weeny, life-changing crush…

Maybe he’s just not cut out for relationships. Maybe he’s too chubby, too silly, too weird-looking for anyone to actually want to –  

But damn, Even’s getting his ass out now, and Magnus can see the dark shadow of his cock swing out of his pants like some kind of fucking _crane,_ he’s beating it against Isak’s cheek and open mouth like a fucking _daddy,_ and Magnus is suddenly ridiculously, shamefully hard, and he can’t help touching himself just a little, and then a little becomes a lot, and –

 

Chris sits in the shadow of a wall on the other side of the garden, watching Isak’s pale face upturned to the moonlight, one hand thrown back grasping vainly at a tree, and the other rhythmically stroking through Even’s hair as he receives the full length of Even’s body on his.

Fuck he’s beautiful, thinks Chris, Isak’s _beautiful_ , and he’s taken, and I should have tried to hit that while I still could, and now it’s too late, he’s with a guy that looks like a fucking angel, and nobody can ever come close. I’ve fucked up everything with Eskild because I couldn’t say no to Eva, and I’m a sad, pathetic loser who’s only ever going to watch guys have sex in woods from now on because that’s all I’m fucking good for.

A flicker of movement from the other side of the wood catches his eye, and he looks up to see Isak’s friend _Magnus_ , of all people, watching Isak and Even from behind a tree with a concentrated expression and one hand working hard in his pants. Chris is momentarily startled, but the next second his love of intrigue gets too much and he sidles around in the shadows until he comes up behind Magnus unawares.

“Getting a good view, Magnus?” he whispers in his ear.

Magnus leaps ten feet in the air and shoves himself back inside his jeans, puffing and blowing like a goldfish. “What are you _doing_ here?” he hisses at Chris.

“Same as you, it seems,” bites back Chris. “Having fun?”

Magnus stammers some bullshit about not having realised that they were there, but Chris isn’t listening. Magnus is pretty cute up close, actually, his acne has cleared up last couple of months and he’s cut his hair so he’s looking kind of hot. “You wanna, uh, fuck or something?”

Magnus draws back, shaking his head. “Sorry, Chris, I’m not gay.”

He doesn’t fancy Chris, not even as second choice, and he’s pretty sure he’s around Chris’s _twentieth_ choice so he’s not quite sure why he’s even asking.

“I’m not gay either,” says Chris, dragging the back of his hand against Magnus’s still-stabbing erection. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to be gay when you’re as cute as you are.”

It’s a cheesy line, but Magnus stares at him in surprise, and Chris capitalises on it by leaning in slowly, giving Magnus enough time to pull away if he wants to, and kissing him softly. He’s a good kisser, but Magnus seems a bit wooden in his response, he doesn’t open his mouth or anything, he’s inexperienced perhaps, or maybe just taken by surprise. Chris feels his uncertainty, and pulls back, whispers enticingly.

“These guys are putting up one hell of a show. You can carry on watching them while I blow you if you want.”

Magnus hesitates – “Don’t take this the wrong way, Chris, but no.”

Chris smirks. _Gay virgins_. They’re so fucking _shy_ but they _always_ want it _._ He likes virgins, as long as he knows what he’s dealing with, first times are important and he knows how to give them a memory they’ll always treasure. “Yeah, right,” he murmurs, tracing his lips over the outline of Magnus’s jaw and down to his neck. But to his amazement, Magnus pushes him off and holds him at arm’s length.

“Really, Chris. I don’t want to kiss you, or fuck you.”

Chris is incredulous. He’s being _turned down_ – by _Magnus_ of all people? – _Magnus!_ Magnus, the famous second-year virgin, who doesn’t have any luck with anybody _ever,_ who the fuck does he think he is to be passing up _literally the best time of his life_ that he’s ever going to have had, _ever –_

“Look, I’d rather kiss someone I really like,” says Magnus quickly, and although he hasn’t meant it to hurt, Chris feels it sting a bit. “Sure, I used to be desperate, I mean desperation was my _thing_ , but I’ve decided now. I’m not just going to do stuff for the sake of _doing_ it, I want it to _mean_ something –” Chris steps back, “– and I want the person I’m doing it with to mean something to me too.”

“Wow,” snaps Chris, strangely impressed but a little bitter nonetheless, “well good luck finding your fairy-tale, fantasy relationship – ”

“It’s not a fairy-tale fantasy,” shouts Magnus, “why’s it a fairy-tale to want to sleep with someone you _actually like_ instead of _just anybody_?”

Chris opens his mouth to protest vigorously – _what,_ is Magnus _slut-shaming_ him now? – but it’s too late – their raised voices have been heard.

“Oh my God! Are you guys fucking watching us?” shrieks Isak, Even jumps up, pulling up his jeans, and Chris and Magnus, laughing hysterically, take off back to the party as if all the hounds of hell are on their heels.

 

**21.40**

Eskild has relaxed a bit once he can’t see Chris in the party crowd, and he nudges Noora forward so that she can see Eva and Vilde standing over by the dark glow of the lanterns.

“There she is. Go talk to her, honey.”

Noora swallows, looking over at Eva in her boy’s jeans and check shirt, watching her long dark hair shaking as she laughs.

“Come on girl,” encourages Eskild, “You guys are meant to be. Don’t let this shit hold you back.”

It seems the longest walk that Noora’s ever taken – _though what the fuck, is that Even’s ex-girlfriend and Emma Larzen kissing each other in the corner there?_ – but she finally manages it without actually collapsing and stands bashfully at Eva’s shoulder for a while before Eva notices her.

“Hey,” she manages to get out before her throat closes and makes an awkward clicking sound. But Eva’s looking just as nervous as she is, and Vilde, bless her, is rapidly making herself scarce to give them a chance to talk.

“I’m glad you came,” stammers Eva. “I’ve been a total twat, I’m sorry for taking it all out on you. I was discovering a lot about myself and I freaked out a bit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” says Noora, which isn’t really true, she’s had nightmares all week imagining Eva in bed with Chris, but Chris doesn’t seem to be around right now, and seeing her standing there looking as shy and lost as Noora feels herself makes her heart leap a bit.

“Can we – can we give it another shot?” asks Eva, and Noora looks uncertain, but Eva leaps in.

“Look, I know you don’t like penetration,” starts Eva. “That’s fine. And we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I just felt rejected for a while because I like doing it so much. But we don’t have to. I love you and we can totally work this out.”

Noora can’t help it, the look of desire and pain in Eva’s eyes is too much for her and without thinking she’s cupping Eva’s face in her hands and kissing her gently.

“No, I’m sorry, I should have been more sensitive, and I shouldn’t have been so judgy. I’ve never liked being fucked by guys, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy being fucked by you.”

Eva kisses her back with a passion, and as their bodies press together Noora feels something hard jutting into her thigh.

“Is that ...?”

Eva hums in acknowledgement and Noora giggles. “Do you think we can try again?” murmurs Noora into her ear, because she’s feeling soft and gluey and the feeling of Eva’s hands roaming over her ass is just the best.

Her girlfriend smiles into her cheek as she holds Noora close. “Of course, honey. We can try as many times as you want.”

 

Vilde’s watching Sonja and Emma slow-dancing and Noora and Eva kissing on the patio and she knows she should be happy for them but she isn’t.

Everyone is pairing up apart from her, she had her chance with Magnus, but she’s fucked that up good and proper so she might as well make an exit before this happy-couple love-in gets too sickening. She finishes her drink and gets her bag to go, but suddenly she sees Magnus hurtling towards her at speed. He clocks her in the same instant she sees him and he skids to a halt.

Vilde blinks up at him. “Oh! Hello! I didn’t think – I thought you’d left.”

“I was just about to,” says Magnus, breathing from his exertions. He’s feeling pretty fucking fire right now. First Even, then Chris, now Vilde. _What a night._ He’s watched the guy he wants give a blowjob to another guy while proposing to him, he’s experienced his first kiss from a guy that he doesn’t want but that everyone else seems to, and now here’s the girl he fancies popping up too in a tight pink dress and sandals that show off her tanned legs. Hell, that’s more than _usually_ happens for him at a party. “Listen Vilde, you know I like you, but I’m not gonna wait around forever. If you’re not into me, that’s fine, but let’s be straight with each other, okay?”

“No, wait!” Vilde springs up and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was messed up over Eva for a bit, but …” and she runs out of breath and words, because _what on earth had she been playing at_ , Magnus is _good_ , he’s _kind_ and he might be a bit of a loser sometimes but weren’t they all? “I’m sorry, I’ve been confused and a bit of a dick about it. Sorry.”

“So I’m not second choice?” asks Magnus, trying not to sound as eager as he feels.

Vilde leans over and kisses him.

“You’re my first choice.”

Magnus leans into the kiss blissfully, and _yes_ , _this is it_ , this is what it’s all about, it’s all easy and soft and really fucking hot, and her titties are pushed against his chest and her hands are brushing over his ass and his stomach’s whirling and _wow_ , he’s totally here for this, and hey maybe they’ll date and one day they’ll move in together and Vilde will propose to _him_ in the middle of a blow job, and –

The next moment they hear Isak yelling from behind them.

“You fuckwits, I will KILL you and Chris for that shit you just pulled,” and then Even appears and laughingly hustles him off. Magnus can’t help but shoot a quick glance at Even in all his flushed postcoital beauty as he flashes Magnus a smile that makes his heart flip. Magnus smiles back and looks away, he thinks he’s being casual but Vilde’s sharp eyes are on him like a fly on shit.

“Oh my God, it’s _him_ , isn’t it?”

“Huh?” says Magnus horrified and somewhat unconvincingly.

Vilde beams. “Even! The only guy you’re gay for. I saw it!”

“What? No of course not,” says Magnus, but he’s a beat too late and Vilde is smiling and covering her mouth with her hands in shocked delight. “Oh fuck okay, but don’t tell anyone,” he snaps. “Nothing’s ever gonna happen. Isak’s gone through a lot with Even and I don’t want to mess stuff up for him, okay?”

“I get it!” Vilde blushes, “I got all tangled up in that stuff with Eva and Noora, and it could have gotten really nasty, but I’m glad they’re back together and we’re all still friends. It sucks a bit, but at least now I know Eva isn’t into me.”

“Yeah,” says Magnus, glancing at her shyly. “I can’t help being glad about that to be honest.”

Vilde dimples at him prettily. “But really, you know, Magnus, you don’t need to be _ashamed_ of being bi.”

“I’M NOT ASHAMED OF BEING BI,” shouts Magnus, realising too late that there’s a gap in the music as Mahdi is changing the tracks so his words echo loudly across the party. People look up and he turns away hurriedly, whispering, “but I’m not bi for everybody, I just said – ”

“What the fuck, Magnus is bi now?” asks Jonas as he wanders towards them with a joint in each hand. “Am I the only straight person left?”

 

Emma’s having the time of her life, she’s been dancing and kissing Sonja all night, and she can’t believe it, after all this time having to hide it they’re a _real couple_ , and Sonja’s even introduced her to a friend they’ve just bumped into as “my girlfriend Emma.”

“You’re looking much too hot right now,” murmurs Sonja in her ear. “I think that we’re going to have to get you back in line later on tonight.”

Emma looks up at her, eyes dark with lust. “Really, mistress?”

“Really,” breathes Sonja, her hand stroking Emma’s ass firmly up and down until Emma’s wet as fuck. “That skirt is way too short, and everyone’s looking at your titties.” Her hand caresses Emma’s breasts possessively. “You’re not going out in this thing again.”

Emma smirks, lolling back insolently, the rebellious sub. “Really mistress? Are you going to make me?”

“Yeah,” breathes Sonja, her nails digging into Emma’s ass so Emma suddenly squeaks in delighted pain. “I am totally going to make you.”

Emma’s really here for whatever scenario Sonja wants to cook up, but the next second Even charges onto the patio holding Isak’s hand aloft in his. They’re both looking quite tousled and red-faced, and Even waves frantically across to the music station for silence. “Mahdi, turn that shit off now. I’ve got an important announcement to make!”

“Uh oh,” whispers Sonja and she’s suddenly dropped Emma’s hand and she’s making her way quickly over to Even but she’s too late.

“I’VE JUST PROPOSED TO ISAK!” bellows Even, “AND HE SAID YES!”

The crowd erupts in cheers and shouting, and people surge forward to embrace them and shake their hands. Emma strains to catch a glimpse of Isak’s face, but he’s buried underneath Jonas, Mahdi, Noora and Eva who are hugging and kissing him and Even’s laughing like the sun and embracing Magnus and Vilde, and he’s so golden and bright that he’s blinding.

As Emma pushes her way towards them she can suddenly see, in the middle of the ecstatic group, Sonja talking rapidly and seriously to Isak, and Isak is nodding seriously back. Emma hears Isak say “… on Monday, as soon as they open –”and Sonja says, “ask for Validoxon, it stabilises the high without making him crash,” and Isak nods and types it quickly into his phone.

“Hey,” says Emma, as soon as she can get Isak’s attention.

“Hey yourself,” says Isak, beaming, and gives her a huge hug. And it isn’t awkward at all. Emma smiles at him.

“Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

And, much to her surprise, she really is.

Isak grins. “Thank you. I was half expecting it to be honest. Even’s not very good at keeping secrets.”

Emma smiles. “I’m really pleased. Looks like you guys got your perfect ending.”

Isak looks at her, surprised. “Perfect ending? No we haven’t.”

Emma’s confused. “Uh – no? Why not?”

“It’s a beginning, not an ending,” says Isak. “Everyone thinks that getting together with someone is endgame, but actually that’s where it all starts. Yes, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life, yes, I want to marry Even like tomorrow, but we’ve got a hell of a lot of shit to sort out first We’ve got to get Even’s meds adjusted and find wherever the hell it is that he’s put my ring, and invite a lot of people to our wedding party on absolutely no budget, so it’s absolutely not perfect at all, but I’d rather be doing this than anything in the world.”

“Wow,” said Emma, feeling a little lost. “Just everyone thinks you’re this perfect couple. I know that Sonja and I are just starting something now, but sometimes I get worried that Sonja and I will never be perfect, so it’s good to hear you say that.”

“There’s no such thing as perfection,” smiles Isak as Even bursts open a bottle of champagne and starts handing it out, sloppily and enthusiastically. “Give that idea up now, Larzen. That’s the only way you’ll be able to be happy.”

 

When he sees Eskild’s tall frame coming towards him carrying one of the paper cups of champagne that Even’s just cracked out, Chris’s heart is all kinds of frantic, for a moment he considers ducking back down into the garden but it’s too late, Eskild’s seen him, he’s drawing himself up to his full height and there’s nowhere for Chris to go and he can’t think of anything to say, his brain’s gone fucking _blank_ and all he can do is hang his head and stare at Eskild’s feet in – a pair of rainbow fucking _clogs._

“What’s the matter, baby bi?” asks Eskild archly. “Not celebrating the engagement of two white cis poster-boys for gay marriage?”

Despite himself, Chris can’t help smirking, and feels a wave of relief at Eskild’s acid commentary. Eskild _always_ knows how to make him feel better.

“Hi,” he mutters bashfully, “it’s OK, I’m leaving now. I don’t wanna spoil anybody’s night.”

But Eskild reaches out a hand, takes Chris’s wrist and turns him around. “Look. Look at that over there.”

Chris looks in the direction Eskild’s pointing, and sees Eva making out with Noora on the patio. They’re all lips and hands and grinding and usually he’d be thoroughly enjoying _that_ kinda view but instead he just feels sad as hell.

“Yeah, I know, Eva told me she wanted to get back with Noora. I’m, uh, I’m glad they made up.”

Eskild clears his throat. “That, baby bi, is one amazing relationship right there. And you, darling, are not going anywhere near that ever again.”

Chris sighs. “You don’t have to worry about that. Look, just let me go, Eskild,” he says tiredly. “I’m not in the mood. I don’t wanna screw up anybody’s night.”

But Eskild is still holding his hand and drawing him closer. “You’re not screwing up my night, baby bi. At least, not yet.”

“What –” begins Chris, but all of a sudden there’s not much space between him and Eskild and Eskild is leaning towards him intently and there’s a look in his eyes that he hasn’t seen there before – _that_ look, the one he’s only ever seen on Isak’s and Eva’s faces – and then he feels the weight of Eskild’s body pinning him to the wall –

Chris licks into his mouth rapturously. It feels so long since he’s been held by Eskild, it’s been weeks now and it’s been _too long_ , he needs Eskild’s hard lean body against his, wants to hear his bitchy comments and watch him drag himself up and make him laugh and hear his rough grunts as he’s fucked and eat that horrible garlic pizza with him and watch endless episodes of Stranger Things and –   

“Have you missed me?” murmurs Eskild into his mouth, and Chris is so gone for him right now that he just groans and nods.

“I’ve missed you too,” whispers Eskild as he kisses Chris’s neck. “So I think it’s time we sort out the rules of our relationship.”

Chris’s eyes widen as his heart starts to pound. “I thought the whole point was that we didn’t _have_ a relationship?”

Eskild grins. “I mean the rules of our no-rules relationship,” he says roguishly, tracing his finger over Chris’s face.

 “What are the rules of our no-rules relationship then?” asks Chris dreamily, winding his arms around Eskild’s neck and kissing blissfully at his mouth.

“Okay, rule number one, it's an open relationship so we’re free to fuck whoever we want, but no fucking friends, or fucking _up_ friends. I think we know how that one goes,” says Eskild, his mouth just grazing over Chris’s.

Chris nods enthusiastically, lips parted and easing his legs open to let Eskild lean himself hard between them. He’ll agree to anything, _anything_ , as long as Eskild keeps holding him and kissing him like this –

“We’ll keep to agreed days of the week - no turning up unannounced at the other’s house otherwise we’ll have a repeat of that situation the other day. We can call or text if we want to set something different up.”

There’s nothing Chris wants less than to meet another goateed student wearing Eskild’s Japanese dressing gown again so he agrees heartily.

“And thirdly, do no harm. That should cover everything. Be safe, use condoms, don’t do anything risky, and _don’t_ fall in love with anybody else.”

Chris’s heart kicks up a notch and leaps right out of his chest. _Don’t fall in love with anybody_ _else._

Eskild’s words are so tender, like an unexpected birthday gift or some kind of unlooked-for celebration. “Don’t you go dumping me and breaking my heart again, then,” he mutters feebly. “Do you think this can work? Do you think we can work like this?”

“Baby bi,” Eskild says, “listen to your guru. There’s all sorts of relationships, closed and open. _There’s_ two young guys who are getting engaged,” he points at Isak and Even who are drinking champagne ceremoniously out of each other’s cups, “and next to them – pointing at Emma and Sonja – “there’s two girls who are just starting out. Maybe they’ll work, maybe they won’t, but it’s up to them. Those two –” and he points at Noora and Eva – “are two baby dykes who have already worked through a ton of shit, alright sorry, I’ve made my point – and those two,” he indicates Magnus kissing Vilde “are the token straight couple who will probably get married too and settle down to sex once a month and 2.4 children. It’s a wonderful world that we’ve got for ourselves, baby bi. We need to enjoy it.”  

Chris glances over to see Magnus kissing Vilde with his hand up her skirt, and bursts out laughing. _Ah, so now it all makes sense_ , he thinks. “Well, you know, maybe not. Appearances can be deceptive,” he murmurs.

“What do you mean?” asks Eskild, puzzled, and Chris shrugs. _It’s their business_ , he supposes. “Oh nothing,” he says, and pulls Eskild in close so there isn’t an inch of space between them. “Kiss me again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little footnote: in case it's not abundantly clear, the "perfect" of the chapter is all about what's perfect for one couple might not work for another, and how striving for elusive perfection in relationships can only make you unhappy. I know a lot of m/m couples who have open relationships, and that's totally fine for Chris and Eskild, and I also know a lot of m/m couples who are long-term committed with children, which is totally fine for Isak and Even. 
> 
> "Perfect" is also a bit of commentary on the tendency fandom has for Evak to be this perfect couple, when obviously if one person has MI then there will always be rocky roads to navigate - so even on their "big day" there's shit to work through but they do it because they love each other - I've had a long term relationship with a bipolar girl, and suffer from depression/ anxiety myself, so this comes from a place of compassion and experience. 
> 
> Sonja/ Emma and Eva/ Noora are starting out here on (probably first) f/f relationships - both Eva and Emma are sensitive and insecure and have waaaay too high perfectionist expectations of what they're getting. Emma turns her insecurity on herself, while Eva lashes out when she feels rejected and hurts other people. (Sorry, Vilde.)
> 
> And bi-curious couples like Vilde/ Magnus always run the risk of being erased to "that straight couple" if they happen to date people of an opposite gender - it's happened to me (though I broke up with the guy I was seeing two weeks ago sdlfhasifh and asked a cute pangirl out - keep you posted on that ngksngdsgnskdgnksd!) Vilde gets mixed up with another person's relationship (hot tip, don't do it, voice of experience here) but Magnus stays out - he also doesn't go with Chris "just to see what it's like" - he doesn't fancy him, he'd rather be with Vilde, if only she can make up her mind and stop messing him about ...
> 
> Hope I'm not over-explaining here, but I've had such a great time writing this - thanks to all the lovely prompts and feedback - I think I'm gonna write some more crackships - this has shown me that we need them!! ALT ER LOVE!

**Author's Note:**

> So despite having identified as bi since I was 14 and dating girls, guys, trans guys, and non-binary people, I am really grateful to SKAM for reinventing the label pan for me, because for me it's absolutely about the person regardless of sex and gender. But because I'm seeing someone of the opposite gender at uni at the moment my family are regarding me as hetero ("oh are you straight now"), which highkey pisses me off bc I just got out of a 2 year same sex relationship, who was my public partner to everyone including them, and now they're trying to forget about it so don't get me fucking started on bi-pan erasure okayyyyyyyyy!


End file.
